121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ29hv6PxKqT
The sun sets over Kisumu, casting long shadows across the divided school grounds. On one side, Kisumu Girls’ National School—its gates polished, its reputation untarnished. On the other, Kisumu Boys’ High—respected, but carrying the weight of being “less than.” Between them stands the Berlin Wall: not the one of Cold War fame, but a barrier just as real, just as heavy with memory.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTN8St9Fl9i
Yet it was not always so. Decades ago, there was only one school—a single compound, a single bell, a single breath. Built in the early 1900s during the feverish expansion of the British “Iron Snake,” the school was founded to serve the children of Indian railway workers. These families, drawn from across the ocean, stayed long after the last rail was laid, weaving their language, food, and festivals into the lakeside city’s soul. In those days, boys and girls learned together, their laughter echoing across open fields beneath jacaranda trees.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwkGxXjSlNU
But the winds of change swept through post-independence Kenya. In the 1970s, a government eager to reshape education—and society—decreed that more national schools for girls must be established. The once-mixed institution was split in two. The girls’ wing, favored by policy and investment, rose to national status, its students drawn from every province, its future assured. The boys’ side remained extra-county: proud, but never quite equal.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9SqGIINlBb
The wall was built in the wake of this division. Some say it was simply policy—a physical line to match the new administrative one. Others whisper of a deeper scandal: a night of betrayal, a forbidden friendship, a secret meeting that ended in tears and shame. Whatever the truth, the wall became more than stone and mortar. It became a silent witness, absorbing the hopes, regrets, and whispered secrets of generations.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuvZCV2V1qU
Now, the wall’s shadow stretches across two worlds shaped by history and rumor. Students on both sides slip notes through cracks, invent codes, and dream of crossing boundaries set long before they were born. The wall listens. The wall remembers. And as new cracks appear in its foundation, the past begins to stir—demanding to be heard.
“Let me be clear. The wall is not just a boundary of bricks and mortar. It is a symbol of order, discipline, and respect. It protects the integrity of Kisumu Girls’ High School and preserves the safety of every student here.”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHITca9zvuu
Taking up the mantle as principal of Kisumu Girls’ High School was never going to be easy. Mary Achieng’ Kiaye, a career teacher with over thirty years of experience, knew this well. The school was a prestigious institution with a rich history of empowering young women, but it was also a place simmering with unrest and division. The chaos that erupted last term— the breaches of the old perimeter wall separating the school from the boys on the other side, and the students’ defiance—had shaken the very foundations of the school.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy5dbSfC3E7
“Any attempt to cross, communicate, or interfere with what lies beyond that wall will be met with the strictest consequences. This is not a matter of choice but of survival. The rules are simple and absolute: no crossing. No messages. No exceptions.”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNBR19K4qdo
Mary had been brought in specifically to straighten things out. The board of governors and the Ministry of Education had made it clear: discipline must be restored, order re-established. But the challenge went beyond enforcing rules. She had arrived just weeks ago, summoned by the school board to bring order to a place teetering on the edge of chaos.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNtFAzgElTx
Her briefing on the events of last term had been succinct but heavy with implication. The reports spoke of secret communications, breaches of school rules, and a growing culture of defiance among the students. The wall, once a symbol of discipline and separation, had become a battleground of whispered secrets and silent rebellions.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0ibnLSnd60
Mary reflected on the gravity of the situation. She had been deputy principal at a well-regarded school in Nakuru, where she had earned a reputation for restoring discipline and academic excellence. But Kisumu Girls’ was different. The old rugged stone wall was not just a physical barrier; it was a living symbol of division, fear, and unspoken tensions. The students were caught between obedience and rebellion, and the staff seemed overwhelmed.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlJdEmQupXo
The briefing had emphasized the urgent need for strong leadership. The previous administration had struggled to contain the unrest, and now the responsibility fell squarely on her shoulders. Mary understood that her role was not merely to enforce rules but to rebuild trust, restore order, and navigate the delicate balance between authority and empathy.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgS08mIF8Yg
Powerful alumni, including captains of industry and senior politicians from both Kisumu Girls and Kisumu Boys, watched closely. Many preferred a quiet school, one that did not draw unwanted attention or controversy. They wielded influence behind the scenes, subtly pressuring her to keep the school’s troubles under wraps.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcI9VT7gZTm
This pressure weighed heavily on Mary. She struggled with the reality that her role was not just about managing students and staff, but navigating a web of expectations from powerful stakeholders who sometimes seemed more interested in preserving appearances than addressing root problems.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8FSs7VChXT
Her first ever morning assembly address to the school was crucial. It was a statement of intent, a reaffirmation of the strict rules—the Commandments—that would govern life at the school. But Mary also hoped it would signal something more: a commitment to listen, to understand, and to lead with both firmness and compassion. The struggle was real. The stakes were high. 121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMkbR1r8EPQ
As a woman of principle, shaped by a childhood in a rural village where education was seen as a rare and precious opportunity. Her parents, both teachers, instilled in her a deep respect for learning and discipline. She is deeply committed to creating an environment where students can thrive academically and morally, believing that structure and clear boundaries are essential for growth. She believed that Kisumu Girls’ High School could be more than a place divided by walls and silence—it could become a community of trust, growth, and true learning.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIG3N55KEZs
A prefect stepped forward, holding a folded paper—the Wall’s Commandments, freshly printed and distributed to every student.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ69lLPD8gxG
“Every student will maintain a mandatory distance of 1.5 Meters away from the perimeter wall at all times,” the new principal announced. “Ignorance is no excuse. Silence is your shield. Loyalty is your duty.” She paused, scanning the sea of faces—some nervous, some defiant. 121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeJYgatA7TR
Her dilemma is profound: how to command respect and maintain order without extinguishing the spark of hope and change that flicker beneath the surface. Every decision weighs heavily, for she knows that the future of the school—and its students—depends on her ability to navigate this delicate balance. 121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP4vDFZ93pj
The chaos of last term was a symptom of deeper wounds. And as she prepared to face the students and staff, she carried a quiet determination: to transform Kisumu Girls’ High School from a place divided by walls into a community united by trust, at least she thought.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡArqEi2rQTD
The Berlin Wall had always been a boundary of silence, but now it was under watchful eyes.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8LtMYEh0Y0
In the weeks following the chaos of last term, the school authorities moved swiftly. Cameras were installed at strategic points along the wall—hidden in the branches of trees, mounted on poles, their unblinking lenses capturing every shadow, every movement. The hum of electricity and the faint glow of indicator lights became a new presence, as familiar as the red dirt beneath the students’ feet.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV66McsWK9r
Patrols increased. Prefects and security guards walked the perimeter in pairs, their footsteps echoing in the quiet corridors and open grounds. The message was clear: the wall was no longer a place for secret notes or daring crossings. It was a fortress under constant surveillance.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvDwJmaigX2
For the students, the change was palpable. The thrill of slipping a folded note through a crack or exchanging a glance across the divide was replaced by a tense awareness of watchful eyes. Every movement was measured, every whisper weighed against the risk of being caught.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFqQkuKWvBg
Principal Mary Achieng’ Kiaye had made the decision herself. She believed that the cameras and patrols would restore order, deter rule-breaking, and reinforce the Wall’s Commandments she had laid out in her address. The surveillance was meant to protect, to maintain discipline, and to keep the school safe.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡThfwAlkba9
But the students saw it differently. Some whispered that the cameras were tools of punishment, not protection. Others felt the weight of constant observation as a suffocating presence, a reminder that freedom was limited and rebellion dangerous.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu3JhJ7V1i6
The new regime had changed the game.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgCXtxXuSyO
Now, every secret exchange carried far greater risk. Every crossing was a gamble with consequences that could no longer be hidden in the shadows.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK5bC00iiM1
And the Berlin Wall, once a silent divider, had become a watched, living boundary—where every crack was illuminated, every secret exposed to the unblinking eye of surveillance.
**********121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY3b9yHK89X
Kim didn’t choose to return to the wall. The wall called her back.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt25rAFmB4a
Not with whispers, not with folded letters or threads of blue—but with silence. A new kind. The kind that settles after something has moved, quietly, dangerously, just beyond sight.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡidGtRCyFd9
Since Mercy’s fall last term, since the network behind the dorm fires collapsed under her fingertips, Kim had stepped back. She’d kept her head down, kept close to June and Mary—girls who had seen the edge with her and chosen peace instead of war.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKNANkuTL0g
The school had changed since then. Surveillance was everywhere now. Cameras on poles. Prefects in shifts. Principal Kiaye’s new security protocols turned even the night wind into a suspect. The Order of Hermes? Disappeared—or so it seemed.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfWys7fzJhs
But Kim knew better. Real power doesn’t vanish. It just... changes direction.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJy3uTFSkuJ
Someone had moved the game.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIN1ewYCwn3
The secret drops had stopped.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPTz3MovZ9V
The usual signals—the blue thread, the folded pages, the mirrored corners—gone.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmeR7mmcjH7
The wall was no longer a place of secrets. Not with the cameras. Not with the patrols. Not with the new warning painted in bold red across its base:121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY02vrh3fbU
DO NOT APPROACH — MONITORED ZONE.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3WtzgbvSx3
No one lingered there now. Not even the reckless.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAWg2KL4Syn
And Kim didn’t plan to either.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVUzN33vGe2
She hadn’t thought about the letters in weeks — not seriously. Not since Mercy’s expulsion and the collapse of what remained of the old Order. Not since she started helping Mary with the new school routines and tutoring June in Chemistry like some regular, rule-following girl.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlOoLXyOWSf
But secrets don’t die quietly. They echo.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdlJTIvHIS6
And this one came back not through the wall, but through a place she’d never expected: the school archives.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFi1SwCiJwV
She was there on a harmless errand — helping Miss Otieno, her literature teacher sort through old exam papers and dusty registers in a storage room tucked behind the deputy principal’s office. Most girls avoided it — too dark, too dusty, too full of rats and ghosts. But Kim liked the quiet. It reminded her of who she used to be.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHqgw3DWkic
She was sorting a pile of old form ones' admission slips when she noticed it.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1jQkNFgFRI
A thin blue thread. Caught in the torn binding of a forgotten file labeled “Disciplinary Records, Term 2 — 2019.”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnkSLfWMIlc
Not unusual on its own.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVVU4oihmIj
But as she tugged it loose, something else slid out — something slim, pressed between the back cover and cardboard like a hidden page.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlUhc4RzNST
The paper was brittle, but the fold was familiar. The ink was faded, but unmistakably written in the same elegant, slanted hand. Kim’s stomach tightened as she opened it.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjJ5ox4DBgN
“By the time you read this, I may be gone. The wall was never the real secret. The real secret was how we built the illusion. How many helped. How few questioned.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqZZ0tEyQvr
The blue thread isn't ours anymore.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJP85swTKLd
If this reached you, the new chain has already begun. Watch the cover pages. The Order never stopped. They just rewrote the rules.”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVww1FjioLO
No signature. Just a faint, penciled glyph in the corner — a looped sandal with wings. The mark of the Order of Hermes.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdZcknJEoPr
Someone else. Someone new—or old.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ243E1hmAsJ
And someone who knew about the wall, the games, and the codes.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzwENcXSkz2
She had thought it was over. That she’d burned the bridge, shut the circle.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡie7FPiT7Vq
But now, she realized she’d only cleared the stage.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO1NgNzNgFy
And the Order hadn’t vanished.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYtZ1at48BN
It had evolved.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVRD18x00nU
Underground.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbBSDj96JtR
Hidden.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCOmgR4EsIl
In plain sight.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEsCZuTEOFI
And someone was inviting her in — again.
**********121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv7WzTk5EZA
(A Prefect’s True Allegiance – The Order Incarnate)121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2wBKvlPLRF
Naomi Awuor was done with sympathy.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBGYrvYhGey
She had tried it once — in Form Two — slipping a note through the bougainvillea, testing the rules like everyone else. Her hands had trembled then, her heart racing with borrowed excitement. She remembered the blue thread tied to a flower stem. The faint promise of someone watching back.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcZziexzX31
But that was before.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWdfkJ16HCK
Before she understood what the wall truly was.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1fBSioTSWq
Before she was chosen.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdXGWRNHdWc
Now, as she stood silently on the second-floor balcony overlooking the western wing of the school, Naomi didn’t feel nervous. She felt powerful.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1SB3SM0Ggv
Because she wasn’t just a prefect.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL34s93anZj
She was the last one — not the romantic chaos Mercy had built on stolen secrets and games of rebellion, but the real structure that predated them all.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzLhUK24sHn
The spine behind the surveillance. The hand behind the code.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUxlCQg1epP
And she had a mission: to restore control — not through punishment, but through precision.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY8O6svG0Vt
Mercy had made it personal. Emotional. Sloppy.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAWL9N7yo3A
Naomi would make it systemic.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFUIPODcZNp
She wasn’t interested in scaring girls into obedience.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeutaoU87bF
She wanted to make sure they never even thought about rebellion again.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTtdDwHBs1G
And Kim, the girl who had dismantled Mercy’s empire, was her target. Not because she was reckless — but because she was curious. Dangerous. Quiet enough to go unnoticed… and clever enough to find her way back in.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEubTDTIYIO
Naomi had been watching Kim’s every move since the term began.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwgd5ToubJm
The time she spent near the archives.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYKOz6MeIKy
The absence of her name on any wall patrol reports — suspicious, considering how often she’d wandered there last year.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGiqmCjSicy
The change in her eyes — like someone who knew the rules too well to break them publicly.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr2o5iLLfoF
But Naomi wasn’t fooled.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7gX0fXXf8U
She knew the feeling.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH1aVCspfwK
Because Kim was exactly what Naomi used to be — before she chose structure over sentiment.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpOrCQX8D6j
Now, Naomi wore the Order in silence.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡekuBMGKvDx
No rituals. No threads. No riddles.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoknDRdcmMy
Just eyes everywhere.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAGiO8rslXU
And hands where they needed to be.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNVFdHHTOXC
The Order had shifted.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCCLXKo6PcI
It no longer lived in secret notes and blue signals.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDyStc0P73w
It lived in her.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbeKmnWRHKs
And she would make sure Kim never got the chance to rewrite the game again.
**********121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj65ABPcSsd
The Intercept121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8EmlXRVSq5
(Naomi Moves First)121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjNqDi2mPGw
Kim hadn’t even told June.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrxWLQ3lTDc
She thought she was being careful — too careful, even. No visits to the wall. No late-night sneaking. Just quiet questions, random walks, and one folded page she’d tucked into the back of a library atlas under the topic "Great River Systems of East Africa."121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡztywy5lQ9f
It wasn’t a real message — just a test. A decoy. A few lines about “stone markings” and “the first thread that never frayed.” Nothing obvious.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3sv0oVWJIU
No one was supposed to find it.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8TIwyrLKwp
But the next day, as Kim passed by her locker after afternoon preps, she noticed something that made her throat tighten.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTyMfCOt3dD
The atlas.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjrFaahtPzW
It was sitting on the bottom shelf of her locker — spine turned out, almost deliberately placed.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUHA9ZRk0yv
She hadn’t touched it since the morning. She hadn’t told anyone. Hadn’t written her name on the page. The book shouldn’t be here.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8MGyUPZuq3
Heart pounding, she flipped it open.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW7y73Vawsa
Her note was gone.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLk2DiUKUOb
In its place: a single strip of red paper.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgT55OBR7pA
On it, written in immaculate, prefect-style print:121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBNUAvRCbVU
“Curiosity is no longer a private habit.”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡejWCf1icTz
She froze.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhSG87HSYOG
Not a warning. A declaration.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCyjfqI66B3
Kim’s mind raced. There’d been no disturbance in the library logs. No one had seen her place the note. No one had seen her return to the stacks.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR8s00Nqx5h
Unless… they hadn’t followed her.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2ldefeK3pH
They’d anticipated her.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUS9sgtztUc
The page wasn’t random. The book wasn’t accidental.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcTfToYNr6i
The person had known exactly where to look — not because she was watching Kim, but because she understood her. Her methods. Her patterns. Her need to feel like she was one step ahead.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5tyEaeNWUm
Now the message was chillingly clear:121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1NgA6QlapF
She wasn’t.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcsQVUie5tF
She closed her locker, trying to steady her breath, but the feeling of being observed only grew. She glanced down the corridor. Nothing but the hum of distant voices and the shuffle of shoes on concrete. Still, she felt eyes on her—unblinking, patient.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC9MSbjI4Qu
“Kim? You, okay?”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVW6FpmPNUr
Shiko’s voice cut through her thoughts. Kim turned, forcing a casual smile. “Yeah, just… tired.”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn3YDxAVYHR
But Shiko wasn’t fooled. She leaned in, lowering her voice. “You’ve been jumpy all day. What’s going on?”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdSRHangzrn
Kim hesitated, then shrugged. “Just… weird stuff. I think someone’s messing with my things.”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwZme87w08W
Shiko frowned, glancing at the atlas in Kim’s hands. “You mean, like, checking your locker?”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBIcYH73tLt
Kim nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I left something in the library. It came back. I didn’t tell anyone.”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3tjFmXSxEw
Shiko’s eyes widened, curiosity flickering where there used to be only indifference. “You think it’s… them? The Order?”121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡovTa1kkFQI
Kim shrugged, but the answer was in her eyes.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa75Y00KlxC
Across the hall, Seline watched the two of them, her gaze sharp and suspicious. She saw the way Kim clutched the atlas, the way Shiko leaned in, their heads nearly touching. Seline’s jaw tightened. She’d seen Kim distracted before, but this was different—secretive, anxious, hiding something.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCiupXn5V5Z
Seline turned away, but not before Kim caught her eye—a flash of something unspoken passing between them. Suspicion. Jealousy. The first crack in a friendship that had already begun to splinter.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmpW6EG8SBI
Kim closed her locker and hugged the atlas to her chest. She had her answer now: the Order was watching. And she was already in the game, whether she liked it or not.
**********121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqMyALCV2fK
The news of the matatu strike hit the boarding houses of Kisumu Girls' with a chilling realization: they were truly isolated. Unlike day scholars who might simply miss a day, these girls were already living within the strict confines of the school, separated from home.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx8okMRTKGf
The matatu operators, a notoriously tight-knit and often volatile community, were reportedly fed up with what they claimed was incessant intimidation, arbitrary arrests, and demands for bribes from traffic police. The breaking point, as the rumors had it, was a recent crackdown that had seen several vehicles impounded and drivers unfairly charged, pushing them to the brink. They had decided to withdraw their services en masse, a drastic measure meant to force the authorities to address their grievances.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlwK0m0e1Ku
Whether it was truly about police harassment, or if it was a tactic to protest rising fuel prices, a constant source of tension in the transport sector remains a mystery. Maybe it was a power play, a demonstration of the matatu industry's undeniable leverage over the city's daily life. Regardless of the exact trigger, the consensus was clear: the matatu operators felt pushed too far, and Kisumu was now paying the price for their defiance.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwokJirnP7Q
During the evening prep, a quiet ripple of anxiety spread, far more profound than just missing a lesson. The reality hit harder: they were already cut off, and now the city itself was sealing them in.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNstfzkYIlF
"My little sister was supposed to come visit this weekend," June whispered to Kim, her voice tight with disappointment. "My mum said she'd bring fresh omena." 121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRlbqk2fhyo
Kim nodded, her mind already racing beyond June's immediate concern. She thought of her own mother, who relied on the morning matatu to reach the distant clinic where she worked. A strike meant lost earnings, increased hardship for families already stretched thin. The usual weekend visits, the precious few hours parents could come to school, bringing fresh supplies or a taste of home – those were now suspended indefinitely. The school, a fortress of discipline, suddenly felt like a cage.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjQSzShLVep
For many, weekend visits were a lifeline, a tangible link to family and a break from the rigid school routine. The idea of those visits being cancelled, of the city outside grinding to a halt, sent a fresh wave of unease through the dorms.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBvj0nsCBkE
A thought, sharp and sudden, pierced through Kim's dread. The Order, in its new, systemic form, thrived on precision, on anticipation. But this strike was an unanticipated variable. It was a wrench thrown into the gears of their carefully constructed control. The information vacuum, the desperate need for news from home, the sheer disruption – this was a crack in the fortress, not in its stone, but in its very foundation of order.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo5yF37k2xH
Kim looked at the worried faces around her, then at the distant, unyielding line of the Berlin Wall. The Order had declared her curiosity a public habit. But perhaps, in the chaos of Kisumu's silenced pulse, that habit could become a weapon, a way to find new threads, new messages, new paths through the very system designed to contain her. The game wasn't just about the wall anymore; it was about the city, and the desperate need that might just force the Order to reveal its true face.121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmueI8hzAJI
121Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4hVHYB7a10
