blog
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“Sore legs, sweet lassi, and a text from a guy who still won’t tell me his real name 😌💃🏽🫖 Healing looks like tea instead of coffee and laughter instead of overthinking. Chapter 2 feels kinda cute.”
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He texted me one night, casually asking about an iron box. I stared at the message, blinking. Was this a cry for help? Some kind of cryptic code? Or was he really in desperate need of an iron? I mean, who asks someone for an iron box in the middle of the night? But, being
Insight of a Kenyan Girl 