Chapter Two: Worlds Apart Six years after the tragedy, the streets of Nairobi buzzed with a rhythm Nyachae had grown used to—but not entirely comfortable with. The matatus roared like untamed beasts, weaving through traffic with reckless pride. At Globe Roundabout, hawkers shouted over each other, peddling everything from sugarcane to pirated movies. Nairobi was many things: loud, hungry, relentless. And it was also home, at least for now. Nyachae rented a bedsitter in Pangani. Not far from town, yet far enough to afford some silence when he needed it. The peeling walls of his apartment were plastered with sticky notes, clippings from the Daily Nation , and a small corkboard holding black-and-white photographs of his family—one in particular always drew his eye: a picture of their parents holding hands outside Kisii High School, the very place they’d met as young teachers. He often stared at it late into the night, trying to reconstruct the moment it captured. Their smiles lo...