Shirley and I had clutched imploringly to Obashi’s hands. This nice Ethiopian, in his white Ethiopian shama was our savior.
The train had stopped at the station in Exira and below us on the platform were the joyous faces of all the relatives and friends who had not seen their sister and her husband for eight years. Had not even seen us.
Smiles and waves, arms reaching for us, brought only terror to our hearts! We had never seen so many white faces in our lives.
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