What Tears Us Apart

Chapter 32



January 11, 2008, Kibera—Ita

ITA LISTENS IN terror as Jomo speaks, stringing together more words in his first rushed sentences than Ita has heard him utter in the months since he arrived at the orphanage.

“I was scared. I was hurt. I ran through the streets. I hid in a shack.” The words dart from Jomo’s pinched mouth.

As a horror show takes shape in Ita’s mind, he begins to understand, get a glimmer of what happened that awful night.


December 30, 2007, Kibera—Jomo

Jomo crawled out from beneath the mob. He ducked into the closest alley, sure he’d broken every bone in his body. As he surveyed his bleeding skin, his swollen limbs, he heard men’s voices approaching. He was petrified, there was no time to escape. The way back to the orphanage was in the direction of the voices. Peering through the darkness and the smoke, Jomo searched for a place to hide. He tried one door—locked. At the next, a woman’s voice hissed for him to go away. Mercifully, a third door gave way when he pushed it open. Inside, the shack was empty. Jomo dashed in as the voices came closer, more of them now—a gang.

He looked around, there was a low bed frame that he could maybe fit beneath. He tucked himself under and pulled in rumpled clothes to hide himself from view. Jomo braced himself. He could hear the men, louder, taunting. When Jomo peeked, he could see through the open door. He cursed himself for not shutting it, locking it.

But then there came another noise, whimpering. A woman. Jomo saw her, a shadow running past, just as a man’s hand reached out and grabbed her arm.

Jomo peeled aside the clothes, started clawing his way out.

The men had Leda.