Kiana Moturi

THE MULTIBET

EPISODE ONE

BY KIANA MOTURI

After years of meticulous work and deliberations, our family chose to settle in a new home. Bad blood flowed in the extended family and as such, the head of the family flexed his muscles to avert a catastrophe.

Five years after purchasing land in the next village, he began to establish what possibly looked like the final destination for the family. As supportive as we were, we dipped our fingers in the project. Two years later, everything was set for the big migration.

A moment of delight finally landed. For us, perhaps we could escape the claws of servitude back in the ancestral land. I was in my last year in high school and having spent the whole year in a relative's place while schooling, time was ripe to trace back my roots.

Immediately after completing my final exams, I had gone back to the village and after some few weeks, the time came. In the evening of the 24th of December 2012, we moved to our new home. As for me, I lasted some few minutes.

"Dad unajua mi nimekuwa mwanaume sasa," I started. "Unamaanisha aje?" He replied. This was the moment I'd pass my message emphatically. I was sure he could listen. The conversation continued. By then, I was sixteen.

I had made my point clear. I was not moving together with the rest of the family. After minutes of detailed explanations, we finally agreed. Now, I was left alone in the former compound. It was a moment of joy.

Days later, I kept the struggle alive. Taking care of all that were left: cows and other gardening duties. I diligently rose to the occasion. To me, it was a special moment that I'd longed for. A moment that I could detach from the rest of the family. A real man I slowly became.

Occasional visits to our new home served as a reminder of how I had successfully shunned a menace. Freedom was now in abundance. Living alone was a sumptuous affair that I relished to the very last bit as I danced to the beat. From deep within, an urge rose persuading me to open wide my eyes and see opportunities within and beyond the vicinity.

To be continued. ....

Let's all laugh at Manchester United 😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀

The Manchester derby later today. Pray for Man United because a thorough beating awaits them

In the first years of administration, the government will create a crisis, you'll complain and when elections are nearing, the same government will try to solve the same crisis they created. Then you'll be convinced that it's working and vote it in again.

Your prowess in religious doctrines cannot elevate you to unparalleled levels of decency. How you treat people is all that matters.

Blessed Sunday to you

Some people are angry at you because you're not suffering the way they expected you to. May God keep on disappointing them. 🙏

Match day squad. We go again

A WARM RECEPTION

EPISODE THREE

BY KIANA MOTURI

Moments later, they were kissing uncontrollably. Andy was longing to be in those fine thighs as Jane's ovaries were twerking for him. She badly needed him there. They moved to a nearby couch and continued kissing. Andy's hands now moved to her chest and caressed her breasts gently. Jane let out a soft moan as she spread her legs wider than how rumors spread.

Andy had two missions now: getting the truth about Tim's death and now, fulfilling his manly desires. He retreated and asked Jane about her brother's death but Jane pulled him closer and gave him a deep kiss. Momentarily, he forgot everything and gave in. This time, he went for the thighs. As he reached them, he discovered there was nothing underneath. He kissed her as he slid his finger in the already wet c**t. Jane moaned as the phone rang.

Jane picked the phone. It was her lawyer who reminded her of their meeting with one of her business partners. She had forty minutes to get to town. Andy had no answers to his questions yet but he'd enjoyed his moments. "Do you need more of these?" Jane asked softly as she recovered from her ecstasy. "Definitely yes," Andy replied.

"Tomorrow at four, will you be free you come and enjoy?" Jane asked as she changed her clothes ready to go. Andy knew he'd be working at that time but chose not to pass by the opportunity. He said yes. They hugged and kissed again as they set out.

For Andy, no answers yet but for Jane, it was a win. She had managed to manipulate the journalist to her advantage. All along, it was a cover up. Her hands in Tim's murder remained clean. Nobody could suspect her to have murdered her brother. The following day at four, kisses awaited Andy.

*The end*

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The defending champions are playing today. Come on the Cityzens

Arsenal and Manchester United lost and you people are assuming like it's not a UCL week. Anyway sorry for the loss😀😀 it's God answering our prayers.

We're happy with the results

A WARM RECEPTION

EPISODE TWO

BY KIANA MOTURI

Andy, the investigative journalist had decided to investigate the cause of Tim's untimely death. He had chosen the family to be the first to give their account of the story. The first in line, and well informed was Jane, Tim's sister. She lived in a leafy suburb in the capital. Jane's life was just a broad explanation of how life was good on her side. She traversed the city in big cars. Indeed, she had no complaint.

Andy had booked an appointment with Jane and was headed to her residence. In his mazda demio, he arrived in Ufisadi Estate. Andy was taken through stringent security protocols since his car never matched the surrounding status. From the start, he looked culpable. Even after introducing himself, he was detained at the entrance as they made a call to Jane to ascertain Andy's appointment.

"Buana umetoa dolly kwa nyumba ukaiskuma hadi hapa?" One gate man said pointing at the car. "Huku gari ni kubwa kubwa. Hii ukiingia unapark chini ya stairs karibu na mahali wanaweka viatu. Usiweke parking ya magari," another one ridiculed. Andy was getting upset. He called Jane to speed up the clearance process and turned back to the gentlemen at the gate.

"Chukua hii mkunywe chai," Andy said as he stretched out his hand to give out a five hundred shilling note. "Hapa hatuchukui coins buana," one of them said as they laughed. "Hiyo nunulia dolly nguo," another one implored. The moment was unbearable for Andy but luckily, Jane made a call and he was allowed in.

Jane lived in the second floor of this smartly crafted apartment. From her balcony, she gave directions and finally Andy made his way to Jane's house. They shook their hands firmly as they took their seats.

Jane was a tall, relatively dark in skin complexion and had gained nutritional freedom and had plenty of flesh in the right places. She was still in her night dress thus revealing all the irreducible minimums. Andy was already high from the look of thighs that were finely displayed by the short dress. Responding in tandem, his little man was high too.

Her dress was short upwards. It occasionally revealed her cleavage and its ripe fruits holding firmly onto the branches on either side of her chest. The breasts could provide a good rest at the right moment. His pulse increased. He composed himself and finally talked. "My name is Andy, an investigative journalist." "I know you Andy. I usually see you on the TV. I'm Jane ," she said.

"I'm here for a reason. I'm trying to trace the killers of your brother Tim. I need to get one or two things concerning him and his last days. Do you you know why he wanted to see me a day before he was abducted?" Andy asked. "He wanted to talk to you? Well, I guess you were friends. Right?" Jane replied with a question and headed to the drinks cabinet.

Jane came back with two glasses of wine and offered one to him. "Do you take this? " she asked. "Yes," he replied. They both took a sip of wine and continued talking. All this time, Andy was thinking of Jane's beauty and how blessed she was. He had seen her face, legs, chest, thighs and now, the bright future behind her. "Nyash" was the real deal. He began salivating.

"I can see journalists of today drink and work," Jane broke the silence. "Journalists of today don't drink. It's me who does," he replied. They both laughed as Jane went on to confess her crush on Andy. Andy on his side had already made up his mind about Jane. He couldn't resist her allure. They both smiled as the wine took a toll on their self control.

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A WARM RECEPTION

EPISODE ONE

BY KIANA MOTURI

The elections were approaching and the excitement was rife among the occupants of Jitegemee village. For so long, the current regime had ignored their grievances and they clung to the little hope in the already spread rumours that one of their own would be in the ballot. They hoped for change for they had significant numbers to usurp power from the tyrants.

His name was on every lip in the village. The village boy stood a chance to ascend to power. By default, he was the MP in waiting. The universe stared at him as he smiled back with a promise. A promise to his people. An assurance that change would finally descend upon the villagers.

Tim, a man raised in the ways of the land was now ready to step up. He was back in the village after ten years in the white man's land. Five years of studies and other five years working in a reputable organisation as a senior manager. Having his people's interest at heart, he left his job for a political seat.

Campaigns got intense as elections drew closer. Every candidate rooted for their candidature by all means. Tim was a darling to many. The people's choice never got tired of traversing his land in search of leadership. Politics is a murky affair but he never let it go.

Andy was a renowned investigative journalist who worked for a radio station in the capital. He had been responsible for unearthing dark deals in the current regime. His profile was incomparable. People loved him unconditionally.

The current MP was a real rock. He had managed to force his way for four terms. Mostly, accusations of rigging could be heard and at times voter suppression was a real menace to his competitors. In the mouths of villagers, freedom was inevitable. With finality, it was surely coming. They hoped.

Four weeks to elections as Tim was walking around the village doing a door to door interaction with the electorate, a tinted car with no number plate approached them. Without hesitation, three masked men alighted holding guns and quickly whisked Tim away and fled leaving his entourage shaken. His sister Jane tried to scream but was threaten to silence.

Tim's ordeal spread in the village like wild fire. Villagers wondered why Tim had been kidnapped especially at a time when they needed him most. Reports had reached the police and investigations were underway but now, a week had passed and Tim was nowhere to be seen.

One Saturday morning, Jitegemee village had screams emanating from Tim's home. The whole village thronged to unearth the mystery. A report had arrived indicating that Tim had been found murdered in a nearby forest. His body was badly mutilated. It remained a puzzle that nobody understood.

Messages of condolences flowed in. The family was encouraged to be strong and hope that justice will be delivered duly. For the villagers, their lamp had been turned off. No light. Reality dawned on them that darkness would definitely continue engulfing it's environment. All was left to the authorities concerned. All along, Jane had been admitted since she had suffered a stroke on receiving the message of her brother's death.

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THE CAMPUS ESCAPADES

SEASON FINALE

BY KIANA MOTURI

At home, I looked at her with love and treated her with care. She still mattered to me but now, she was a suspect. I shook my head. Questions ran through my mind. I questioned her capabilities as the mother to my unborn. "How could she give birth to a gangster like her?" I wondered. Life became unbearable.

Upon my continued pressure applied on her, she confessed to committing various crimes with her friends: Jonte included. She had been aware of all the dealings when I seemed to be in darkness. She knew the photos that Jonte had taken on that day. And finally, she never came to my life accidentally. It was all planned to cover up my roommate's sins. Immediately she finished, she stood up and started walking. I intercepted her.

After my call, Jonte promised me that he'll surrender himself to the nearby police station. I relaxed with hope knowing that I was going to see him again though behind bars, he remained a friend. As I was walking along the corridor, screams were heard from the other hostel. I rushed to see what had happened.

Kilimanjaro hostel, room number 5 paid the ultimate price. Jonte hung on a rope on the ceiling. He had left a note detailing his struggles and decided to end his life. He knew his ways well and was sure he had no chance for survival hence ending things on his own. I had failed to offer a shoulder to lean on on his lowest moment. It had happened and maybe my fate was decided if only God never offered another chance.

I left the room disheartened. The room where love brewed first had now signalled the end of an era. I remembered Stacy and immediately ran to look for her. I found her in our room unmoved. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Skiza Brayo, we can't continue...." she said. "How about our child? " I asked. "Go get it from the loo," she proudly responded. Reality hit me. She had aborted.

Our love survived on the operation of Jonte and his syndicate. Stacy had been offered as a tool to blackmail and divert my attention from him. And now, even the pregnancy did not hold any water. I had lost. Lost a friend, lover and child on the same day. Even the villagers' contributions had been lost. I wish I knew.

On this fateful day, I stood a dejected figure staring at the ceiling with no traces of hope remaining. I had fallen with no otherwise than to whimper. I walked to the nearby river ready for the waters.

THE CAMPUS ESCAPADES

PART FOUR

BY KIANA MOTURI

The ceremony began as women ululated, men whistled and children jumped up and down harmoniously. The ceremony continued and after a short prayer, my father gave his speech as religious leaders followed. All their talks were full of praise for this village boy who braved tough times to emerge victorious and now held the village lamp. An example to be emulated by all: both young and old. Shreds of wisdom continued flowing, politicians flowed and money flow was assured.

I stood there cheering up and thanking every contribution made. My plan was ripe, only ex*****on remaining. Stacy had been nauseating for the past week and on testing, our fears were confirmed. She was pregnant. A mixed feeling of joy and sadness engulfed me momentarily since I had no money. In the end, I celebrated the life that we had made and now, money stood in front of me. The event drew its curtains and on the following day, I was sent back to university. Sent to implement the village dream. Sent to represent the young generation filled with hope and determination. Had they known my plan.....

At the room, we were woken up by footsteps and a bang from the fall of cups. Stacy, scarily held me tight. I turned around and to my surprise, Jonte stood and stared at me. Memories of our first meeting became apparent. We embraced like the brothers we had been.

Jonte went back to searching whatever he was searching for before the commotion. Every time he got crucial documents, he stashed them into his bag. I watched from a distance without uttering a single word. He perused document after another and finally got to the document I had encountered earlier- the photos with ticks. "Bro, hizo picha ni za nini?" I asked. Jonte ignored my question smartly and instead handed me two thousand shillings. "Tumia hii kabla nirudi," he said softly as he left the room.

He vanished with unanswered questions and records I had wanted to show to Stacy since one of the photos was of Dan, a friend of ours who had been killed and mysteriously dumped at the university gate. "Beb kuna picha Jonte ameenda nazo za wasee wameekewa ticks na wengine hawajaekewa," I said. "Aki love niko njaa," she replied. Since she was pregnant, I abandoned my question and resorted to preparing breakfast for my queen. After a while, we decided to have a walk to beat the boredom in the room.

The first trimester was over. We eagerly waited for the bundle of joy. A name was already chosen, clothes bought and now waiting for the hour. Stacy battled the usual mood swings as I adjusted to the new norm. I understood everything. At times perhaps the unborn wanted me and other times it needed privacy. What next? After all women issues remain a mystery. I coped with every challenge. Once in a while, I attended classes and in all of them, Jonte remained missing.

A week later, on the newspaper appeared a notice with a noticeable face. Reality dawned on me. Jonte is on the wanted list. I shivered. Why? When? How? It remained a puzzle. Later, truth emanated and spread rapidly. Jonte had been running a syndicate responsible for atrocities committed in the university. When the list of accomplices was released, Stacy was implicated. My knees trembled. I couldn't fathom.

The following day, sleuths were deployed to unmask the mystery. Stacy had previously presented herself to the authorities for interrogation. Luckily, she got freed on bond and came back.

THE CAMPUS ESCAPADES

PART THREE

BY KIANA MOTURI

Semester after semester, love for love, Jonte remained a brother. I had stopped smoking. Stacy never liked that habit and had forced me to choose my preferences. I chose her. We grew together with love. In the process, most friends in my cabal dropped off. Friendship was now in shambles with minimal chances of survival.

Our romantic entangle with Stacy blossomed. Day by day we drew closer to each other. Missing classes became an inbuilt character that derailed us academically. Slowly, my academic prowess dwindled reasonably. I no longer seemed in place to lead the life that I'd promised myself on reporting day. I forgot that I was the village lamp that people took pride in on that day that they had appeared on my fundraising for university fees.

Stacy appeared to be my only lamp. I had trusted her to deliver me from romantic darkness that engulfed me for years. She accepted the task. She took control as I clinged on.

Three days now and Jonte was missing. I had seen him last when he was headed to town to pick some stuff. Maybe he came back and found me missing or he never came. I never bothered. Stacy's room was now my new home. I spent all my free time there unmoved by all the surrounding happenings as long as love prevailed. She was from an affluent family and proceedings from her parents is what kept us afloat. Life was sweet. We enjoyed every bit.

One evening, I had gone to check the status of our room since it had been deserted for days. It stood firm and everything remained intact except its occupants. It was understandable since we had chosen to venture into what looked like the perfect fit for us. Whatever Jonte did remained a mystery. Wherever he was remained private. In my mind, we remained friends: in reality, it was a false remnant.

Since I had misplaced my ID, an opportunity presented itself for me to check and ascertain my forgetful mind. I quickly ransacked all corners of the room but all was in vain. Under my bed, I found some documents instead. An envelope with photos and other details of people: some known to me and mysterious others. I meticulously examined the documents and something caught my attention. Some photos had ticks on them while others did not.

As I reflected on everything, a knock was heard at the door. I looked back and smiled. There stood Stacy. I quickly hid the documents I held and pretended to have missed her, putting aside the thoughtful moment I had. I made a step and hugged her tightly. We kissed passionately and the rest is untold. We sunk in a deep sleep.

We were moving to a new academic year and as usual, money was needed to settle my new semester costs. At home, everything was set. Tents were pitched and chairs arranged uniformly. The sound system was in place and the village DJ was trying his hands on the wheels of steel. The public marveled in tandem as the village drunkard rose to the occasion. He danced to the last beat, defying odds on gravitational force and uprightness. ..to be continued

THE CAMPUS ESCAPADES

PART TWO

BY KIANA MOTURI

It was never a coincidence that Jonte was present when Stacy kissed me. All was crafted meticulously into a fine coy. Jonte had promised me a prize based on my ineptness. For a while, I flashed back and reality dawned. This was the day. Jonte explained as I looked in disdain. Maybe, priorities differed sharply. He was into women while I sticked to books. We all thrived in our respective areas equally. Weeks earlier, we had been involved in an heated exchange about I having a girlfriend. "Brayo, utawacha ukorintho," he yelled. Like a bro, this time I swore to rise to the occasion. A case of the cow presenting itself to the butchery.

Stacy, having been offered as the sacrificial lamb, executed the plan diligently. She frequently checked on me physically and her phone calls now became a routine. Despite being a party girl, she had a soft heart, a trait few could really comprehend. She came over to our room and assisted me in particular to do cleaning, the part that drew me closer to her the most since cleaning wasn't my thing. I couldn't resist her allure. Days passed and my heart was brimming with love. My obsession for her gathered momentum.

I grew accustomed to this new life. I had summoned the inner me and resolved to take the risk with all its implications no matter what. This was the perfect time to apply skills learned from the internet. I rolled like a nerd. Indeed, this time I really was. I thought for a while and hitherto, I smiled. A broad smile for beating solitude and soon, the claws of servitude. My mind, body and desires were all in tandem. They had unanimously resolved to confront the mouth for denying them what rightly belonged to them-Stacy. She is what I want.

Jonte was equally proud as me lately. "Bro, cheza kiwewe hadi mwisho," he said with a pat on my back as I left the room. He was not the type that lay in bed aimlessly in the name of relaxing. If you happen to find him in the room, definitely he was on a hunting mission. The lion waiting for the gazelle at the river. Jonte was famously known for his love for movies. He was updated on the latest trends and so is them. They drooped in large numbers. The rest is between them and the bedsheets.

Kilimanjaro hostel room number 5 is where Stacy lived. I approached her room, a man filled with expectations. The fearful boy in me had escaped. I wanted to see her. I wanted to tell her. I manoeuvred surreptitiously and found myself at the door of this room that in one way thrilled my heart. I knocked. After a minute of apprehension and waiting, the door opened and there stood her. She smiled as I stretched my hand to greet her. "Sitaki mkono nataka hug," she softly said. "Sitaki hug nataka kiss," I replied smilingly.

"Let's do both then," she suggested. This was a multi bet hence I couldn't resist. I moved closer, hugged her tightly as we kissed. All this time we were standing, the door wide open not knowing neighbours we cheering us on. Stacy realised that and immediately slammed the door. I sat on her bed as we talked about random topics ranging from class to finally what took me there, love. The courage I had gathered was now fizzling. I had not told her what I wanted though all signs indicated my message. Nothing else but love.

Campus life was now a sumptuous affair. A true indication of the intrinsic value of falling in love. I relished the process and savoured the outcome equally. It was a moment of joy romantically coined and perfectly blended to make the world a better place for lovers. Some few days later, I deserted our room and now, Room 5 could retell the tales I, her and it shared. I began missing lessons and seemed not to worry about it. What mattered most was love.............

THE CAMPUS ESCAPADES

PART ONE

BY KIANA MOTURI

"Brayo, niwahi ngwai ka imebaki bro," Jonte implored. He looked bothered on this day. The commonly jovial person loooked calm and from the tone he used, he had been humbled again. The world is truly a stepping ground. It is not our home. I searched in my pockets and finally came out a roll of freshly stacked illegal plant. "Hii hapa msee but kaa rada ya masanse," I stretched out my hand as I smiled. We made bunches of fives, the fists met and thumped our chests. To Jah, a covenant was sealed.

Six months in campus could have been difficult without a trusted friend but on this case, having Jonte as one made life smooth. He came through in the hour of need and for such, I asked for no more in friendship. On that reporting day, we had boarded the same vehicle to university . After losing my luggage at the stage, Jonte came to my rescue and ensured life was in order. He had a magnanimous heart and still does. I breathed a sigh of relief and proceeded to the administration block.

I had finished doing cleanliness in our small room since it was my turn that day and my girlfriend had failed to show up for the occasion. I was the humble type so I chose to rise up. Had it been Jonte's girlfriend who failed to avail herself for cleaning, Jonte could have immediately replaced her with a hardworking and submissive new catch. He knew how he got them. An art that seemed nearly impossible within the confines of time.
I dialed his number and the phone rung in the room. He had gone without it.

In a move to beat boredom and loneliness, I set my foot out to enjoy its cool breeze that beautiful evening. The scorching sun had subsided. I yearned for that soothing ambience. All this time Jonte was nowhere to be seen. My worries began to itch since I was not used to him varnishing without notice or even leaving his phone behind. I stood strong and comforted those worries. "This world is nice to the bad guys," I said silently as I continued walking.

After going past the cafeteria and almost approaching the ICT department, a feminine voice softly called. I anxiously looked back to confirm my ears. I stopped for a moment, my heart beating heavily as birds harmoniously echoed the beats in style. "What does Stacy want to tell me?" I quietly thought. Stacy was the most beautiful girl in our class. She was brown, petite and her blonde hair told it all about her beauty. She was blessed. Our blessing. The blessing came closer. I waited.

"Niaje Brayo," Stacy said as she approached. "Poa sana Stacy," I replied. "Unaenda wapi sai na hii masaa tumezoea unakuwanga umedoz?" She continued. For a moment, I was taken aback by her statement. Where did she get all these information from? I pondered. Quickly, I gathered courage and asked, "ulijuaje hii story yote? I smiled. "Jonte alinisho kila kitu kukuhusu," she shyly said as she winked. Confusion engulfed me momentarily but later imploded with excitement. A case of the hunter meeting the prey. We walked.

Stacy offered to accompany me in the evening walk. We walked aimlessly with endless discussions on class, lectures and assignments. She deliberately but hesitantly brought a love topic. Like a pro, I dismissed it prematurely. In real, I was a bungler. I knew little about love. All along I remained unspoiled. After some few minutes of walking and talking, we decided to take a rest in the lawns and watch the sun set with the day's introspection. We sat, talked, laughed and unexpectedly, Stacy moved closer and kissed me. Cheers were heard from a distance. She smiled and gently walked away.

After a brief moment of psychological hiatus, I retrogressed, picked myself and left. In an unscrupulous manner, Stacy's actions had signalled the genesis of an endless and inexplicable journey in love. My heart, famously known for its inexorable features had succumbed to this new feeling. It exorbitantly waited for fruits that looked as possibly its. I walked along the pavement ambitiously not knowing what the future held. As I had sunk deep in thoughts, I felt a touch on my back. On turning back, Jonte stood smiling....to be continued

A PRICK IN PARADISE

EPISODE 6

BY KIANA MOTURI

One Saturday evening as we relaxed on the seat in our house, a knock was heard on the door. I stood up to inquire who our visitor was and there stood a man. He introduced himself as Maurice and informed me that he had been sent from the village to deliver a letter. He handed me the envelope and waved goodbye. I put it on the table briefly and gathered courage and opened it. It was a note from Joy.

It read. " Hey love, it's me again. There's no chance of us meeting in this life again. I thank you for your time, love and commitment in my life. People mess and I'm one of them. I regret some portions of my life but I don't regret having your child. Thank you for the little joy that I'm leaving behind. Take care of her like the best father you've always been. Baby Sia needs you. Your baby and I, love you so much. Let's meet in the next life. Liz will tell you more."

Shock waves flowed through my spine. Tears, rain drops and the paper I was holding dropped to the ground in tandem. As I was about to follow the rhythm, Liz held me, hugged me tight and whispered in my ears " Be calm, I will lead you through these. I love you."

I regained consciousness after a brief psychological hiatus. I then remembered that Liz had been mentioned in the note. Straight away, the memory of Joy's photo in Liz's phone became apparent. They knew each other. I called my wife for a lengthy explanation.

After our talk, reality dawned on me. Liz was Joy's cousin and despite Joy's tribulations, she chose to stand with her and grant her her last wish. She admitted to collecting my seed one day and shared it with her since we had used protection: enough reason as to why Talia and Sia were born a day apart.

Later she told me that Joy had died a year earlier and she had faked a trip to her home only to attend her burial. It became unbearable and tears flowed uncontrollably. I'll never get a chance to see her alive. Life was unfair.

Two months later, we made a trip to Joy's home. Liz, baby Talia and I arrived in the village. We were received joyfully by Joy's family members. For them, their daughter's life had been perfectly summed up into a complete story while as for me, emotions ran high since I never got a chance to properly es**rt Joy to her creator.

Love for love, blood will always be thicker. After a moment of silence, baby Sia smiled and stretched her hands out to me. I reached out and hugged her tight. Liz and baby Talia joined us as other family members came closer. We all embraced. Embraced on Joy's grave. Maybe she could finally rest. A peaceful REST and for the rest, PEACE.

The end.