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For years, I carried a burden that wasn’t mine. Any time something bad happened in our village a cow dying suddenly, someone falling sick mysteriously, crops drying up, or even small quarrels among neighbours somehow my name found its way into the blame. I became the easy target, the person they whispered about at funerals, at water points, and even during village barazas.
It started slowly. One widow’s goat went missing and someone claimed they saw me “passing near her gate.” A young man fell…CONTINUE READING