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On the last day, I rose to bid goodbye to everyone as they followed their routine. Mass in Swahili. A fond farewell to the 3 lovely nuns. Brother and Mary looked after the animals and the kids lined up for porridge as always.

Agatha in the kitchen. The priests who came down to bid us aideu. The tailor and his ever smiling, energetic little boy.

In just a couple of weeks I felt I got to know them. Their habits, their personalities, their smiles.

I will always be grateful for this time that I got to spend with them. I will always look back on this experience and smile.

As we drove to the airport, the now-familiar sights of the city filled me with a bit of melancholy. I know that one day, I will be back. 

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