37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ31sCZDIM6t
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaBa29fyjE4
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdHUOHp9qLZ
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzyXDJDsvG8
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtZd6M0leMw
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.”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS6IfkmosrK
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBoKO5TXCZq
“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.”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsf42VZm7uj
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4XHEveKwTA
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIkARpxWaVZ
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9ECatTbjNx
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu6mK3Y5vhw
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaj7390xtn7
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHLBY3NcuM6
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. 37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPkUBn7SJd2
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF7tTr2KnK0
A prefect stepped forward, holding a folded paper—the Wall’s Commandments, freshly printed and distributed to every student.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk2rUGj9OkC
“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. 37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMJM6psDw0I
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. 37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRrOaw9EUCI
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEe6X5penlY
The Berlin Wall had always been a boundary of silence, but now it was under watchful eyes.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlBpIamY9Ru
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCZb5cQx8rE
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5hwtmuWWvO
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAzX8OC3m7B
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKG1Xwm1hgC
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAztwvEK0n7
The new regime had changed the game.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo9rGbfHmfj
Now, every secret exchange carried far greater risk. Every crossing was a gamble with consequences that could no longer be hidden in the shadows.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg1usBfwC6B
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.
**********37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvHug4npNI4
Kim didn’t choose to return to the wall. The wall called her back.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGCwExwgEQi
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmVn85ipOeV
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBJWLwd3W73
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAo6KMdTqZ9
But Kim knew better. Real power doesn’t vanish. It just... changes direction.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP5MnHs42k7
Someone had moved the game.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiAeRaCbzkK
The secret drops had stopped.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgBfdEWq4hq
The usual signals—the blue thread, the folded pages, the mirrored corners—gone.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDmVM8o21by
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:37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡexEoZJcADv
DO NOT APPROACH — MONITORED ZONE.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhCsGqWZo0N
No one lingered there now. Not even the reckless.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWQCYiIm1yc
And Kim didn’t plan to either.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF6dcdDxBe7
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG154tOqSDM
But secrets don’t die quietly. They echo.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc2MPDWgvd6
And this one came back not through the wall, but through a place she’d never expected: the school archives.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpW0nyu0Gg9
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr5CriVAOH6
She was sorting a pile of old form ones' admission slips when she noticed it.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE0uaPBqGcC
A thin blue thread. Caught in the torn binding of a forgotten file labeled “Disciplinary Records, Term 2 — 2019.”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS4e5Ui4oGZ
Not unusual on its own.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ41MKFPEfsv
But as she tugged it loose, something else slid out — something slim, pressed between the back cover and cardboard like a hidden page.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmcD1h5K1He
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMmm8TjR2Xq
“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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgh9UODh5Rl
The blue thread isn't ours anymore.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYdvAocFOvW
If this reached you, the new chain has already begun. Watch the cover pages. The Order never stopped. They just rewrote the rules.”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC8UdYumbTq
No signature. Just a faint, penciled glyph in the corner — a looped sandal with wings. The mark of the Order of Hermes.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1hZ0rQrJaW
Someone else. Someone new—or old.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡubeW7E2ikr
And someone who knew about the wall, the games, and the codes.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKkyjmTSzph
She had thought it was over. That she’d burned the bridge, shut the circle.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtORc5pg8wR
But now, she realized she’d only cleared the stage.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqqe3qUv2w8
And the Order hadn’t vanished.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9UJekGskJl
It had evolved.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDaqimwPivb
Underground.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy1blVta4GF
Hidden.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiZZfYhO5y9
In plain sight.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsQwyliCZpA
And someone was inviting her in — again.
**********37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUnV4lP9JaS
(A Prefect’s True Allegiance – The Order Incarnate)37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBEnxM7ZS7Z
Naomi Awuor was done with sympathy.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp8YoCrRfSq
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTZumPM8UmM
But that was before.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNUrQ30Ks4w
Before she understood what the wall truly was.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn1YqR89pFc
Before she was chosen.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv6k1zOn1RE
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM8h8NZb61F
Because she wasn’t just a prefect.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDncKH2evly
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2NQLp9cKQi
The spine behind the surveillance. The hand behind the code.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnD8daF1SoY
And she had a mission: to restore control — not through punishment, but through precision.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlGvh5ktGCW
Mercy had made it personal. Emotional. Sloppy.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr597y881gu
Naomi would make it systemic.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGrJ1uZPP0K
She wasn’t interested in scaring girls into obedience.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdYWbpyddqN
She wanted to make sure they never even thought about rebellion again.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCwVchVePzs
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhvG367bkYF
Naomi had been watching Kim’s every move since the term began.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡarcYNp3fkf
The time she spent near the archives.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2rUOSijiRZ
The absence of her name on any wall patrol reports — suspicious, considering how often she’d wandered there last year.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ79MXgKaYKx
The change in her eyes — like someone who knew the rules too well to break them publicly.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX13WeXmBCw
But Naomi wasn’t fooled.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrBiMFDwb6Y
She knew the feeling.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ23QISx06rB
Because Kim was exactly what Naomi used to be — before she chose structure over sentiment.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOb3jfR3cDi
Now, Naomi wore the Order in silence.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAZ7k7VKuz7
No rituals. No threads. No riddles.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡux2EBgtzPx
Just eyes everywhere.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsB62KlYyxq
And hands where they needed to be.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzdGY82pIWD
The Order had shifted.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGnyxRl82C1
It no longer lived in secret notes and blue signals.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqBW6LTQluH
It lived in her.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbK5XTwz4A5
And she would make sure Kim never got the chance to rewrite the game again.
**********37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn4LnArxf4S
The Intercept37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt3XLrQmyTg
(Naomi Moves First)37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡirYYLanyoC
Kim hadn’t even told June.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaX08sHA64W
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."37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHZ2cX1Xmfr
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNYPqwR4NmP
No one was supposed to find it.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN1EyQeuWI4
But the next day, as Kim passed by her locker after afternoon preps, she noticed something that made her throat tighten.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpItnvkoqkl
The atlas.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk0IgJ4RLYi
It was sitting on the bottom shelf of her locker — spine turned out, almost deliberately placed.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc6z8fVIDU2
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡySK8OUlcNc
Heart pounding, she flipped it open.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoOq9G7uoXM
Her note was gone.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOne77JMk8N
In its place: a single strip of red paper.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZS2gYJPgBM
On it, written in immaculate, prefect-style print:37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkpKZAdUVNn
“Curiosity is no longer a private habit.”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX0kWshFS98
She froze.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpPFjwQOZXz
Not a warning. A declaration.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrjmNrO5cAo
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNZBksozUV8
Unless… they hadn’t followed her.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVKpsD2i5aG
They’d anticipated her.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4Bkv6A6vvB
The page wasn’t random. The book wasn’t accidental.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4xCFpQQJ1J
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMzcFO0WZz2
Now the message was chillingly clear:37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWWf5vgTFBb
She wasn’t.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUAiu21qE9b
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUDDASmv7cM
“Kim? You, okay?”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkVuDpK3vv9
Shiko’s voice cut through her thoughts. Kim turned, forcing a casual smile. “Yeah, just… tired.”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV8o6bRdU7C
But Shiko wasn’t fooled. She leaned in, lowering her voice. “You’ve been jumpy all day. What’s going on?”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9vImduAACq
Kim hesitated, then shrugged. “Just… weird stuff. I think someone’s messing with my things.”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmGuxYxf5QD
Shiko frowned, glancing at the atlas in Kim’s hands. “You mean, like, checking your locker?”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKpy0vvKOVW
Kim nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I left something in the library. It came back. I didn’t tell anyone.”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ11hcgp1dU
Shiko’s eyes widened, curiosity flickering where there used to be only indifference. “You think it’s… them? The Order?”37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9TUhrgGfRm
Kim shrugged, but the answer was in her eyes.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvGdNdDs36N
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSzHxH0QN9v
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjdhHOpcvfd
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.
**********37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3bQ4SHV83E
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsJVZqYVqKI
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡphfjV6UuBI
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkUIdILrCnl
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWTxoh8R7Le
"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." 37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQT2t741h9g
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2cLXJdqkwF
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJgPTp0tn2a
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Tk7XRKTtz
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.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡENPtZYskEz
37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGHVCNZJbGs
