So the special day had come, the visiting day. It was the first Sunday of the month and everyone but I was prepared to see their parents. In class seven, my dad had taught me perseverance during such special days by neither turning up nor sending someone to visit me but trust me, I used to eat on this day more than anyone. Baraka was my desk mate and his parents never missed to come. “If my parents fail to come, heaven will break loose,” boasted Baraka whose father was a police officer while the mother was a teacher. For me, my father, a high school teacher knew his son was well, strong and studying hard to achieve his future dreams. Baraka was so kind to me for he always took me along to go and feast on those hot chapattis and kuku. I remember how Baraka had called his mother the previous day commanding her not to forget to bring more chapattis and chicken. Few minutes after church service, parents began arriving. I was on my way to class when I met Linda. Yes, she had captured m...