Hey All
This is a story that desperately needs to be told and retold ... a fusion of kindness, love, fate and dreams that inspire.
Please read and provide feedback.
Thank you.
Leo
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Things Happen.
Uranga village—an enchanted island of unexplored agricultural land, covered with dirt roads only, several hardwood trees, all surrounded by lush green hills and numerous natural treasures—unspoiled.
Not a single roundabout or traffic light, no fancy bridges to boast of, and no more than two vehicles passed through this quiet village in a day. It's just a simple place ... calm ... streaked by less than a dozen seasonal rivers ... a unique sanctuary to heaven's beauty ...
No wonder there were plenty of happy souls in Uranga. Seldom did one hear a discouraging word about this village. Everyone agreed it was a beautiful place, gorgeously situated away from the hassle and bustle of city life. Away from sin. Away from chaos. Away from the news.
There wasn't much to do in Uranga anyway, little commerce if any. Mainly agricultural activity thrived in this village. It was surely an ideal quiet place for killing time and to meditate.
Its peace and tranquility helped it live up to its name. Several kilometers in any direction and one would still be traversing traditional homesteads upon homesteads. It was just that place where the dead truly enjoyed their sleep.
Sadly, for many Uranga residents, the words "technology" and "Uranga" were never compatible. In fact, for all its abundant natural resources, life in Uranga wasn't high tech. With lack of electricity and no modern road infrastructure, the village and the neighboring areas were tucked away from any form of national or global technological reach.
Indeed, with little to worry about, life in Uranga was pristine. Nothing ever changed even after the area Member of Parliament responded to the villager's infrastructural needs by building a bridge over Maungo River in the late 1980s to connect Uranga village with the neighboring Lihanda village.
Because it's perched in the middle of nowhere, Uranga's greatest asset was its people. Indeed, the residents worked hard, and played hard, too. And in all these, it was the manner in which the residents cared for each other that kept their social fabric together.
It was in this lovely village—a place with a myriad dreams and untapped potential—that Moses Biko and Laila Atieno were born and raised.
As neighbors, Biko and Atieno were close from childhood, and both had attended the local Uranga primary school.
Therefore, well into their adolescent years, Biko enjoyed a close relationship with Atieno. They spent their time together like most children in the village did, as they grew up during that early period of their development.
Within no time, they became inseparable, unaware of the unexpected arrival of love, usually finishing their weekend chores early enough to spend more time with each other.
This progress in relationship didn't escape the attention of their parents, who were prominent members of Uranga council of elders. The elders ruled on several things affecting the lives of the locals including marriages and farm boundaries.
And when Atieno began showing signs of depression, the parents summoned Atieno and Biko for a talk.
That afternoon, two o'clock found Biko at his father's house.
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