Seven years.

It still feels strange to think about it…

Seven whole years since I stepped into Nairobi with nothing but fear, a swollen belly, and a name that wasn’t mine. Seven years since I hid myself inside the chaos and color of Kibera, praying that the ghosts of my past wouldn’t find me. Seven years since Pendo Odhiambo was born… and Nova West quietly died.

Now, when I stand before the vast gates of Malaika House Children’s Village, watching them glide open as dozens of little ...