As they say, everything happens for a reason. Some are beyond our understanding and some we have no response but to leave to fate.
Lungi had not been a very good story to tell, but I had to contend with what was there. Betty, my brother’s girlfriend, never grumbled, even when my hard times continued.
My knee had a deep hole, and it was what kept me waiting. The nurse, who came to have a crush on me, struggled to subdue me, but that was not my priority at that time. She kept all my medication and wanted me to go to her home for treatment.
My partner and future wife, Theresa A. Johnson, sent some money so I could buy a ticket home. I feared to say goodbye to anyone not close to me; they would expect me to either leave my clothes or shoes or, worse still, leave them money. I had none of these, so I stayed quiet.
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