On my bike ride back from the luumo (weekly market) one day, a large group of children from my village met me in the final stretch of the half hour journey. They cheered me on, shouting Mahule (mah-hoo-lay, my Gambian name) until I reached my compound. Some days can be real tough here, but my “home people” (especially the kids) never fail to put a smile on my face.
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