All Chapters of Inherited Scars. : Chapter 11
- Chapter 13
13 chapters
Safe Haven
The evening air in Nairobi carried a faint scent of rain and jacaranda. Ntalami stood at her window, fingers tracing the fog on the glass as she watched the city lights flicker like tiny fireflies below. Her phone buzzed softly. Leo: “Still up for the art walk tomorrow?” She smiled. He had a way of asking without expectation—just presence, a calm she hadn’t known before. It had been months since she last saw Duke, months since she finally stopped replaying his voice in her head. But the scars were still there—quiet, healed over, yet tender. Sometimes, at night, she would wake with her heart racing, expecting chaos. Then she would breathe, remind herself: You are safe now. The next day, Leo waited for her by the riverside path where murals painted by local artists covered the walls in wild bursts of colour. He wore a simple white shirt and carried a sketchbook. “You’re early,” she said, smiling shyly. “I like the quiet before the crowd,” he replied. “It’s easier to notice the sma
Last Updated : 2025-10-25
Crossing Paths
The sun hung low over Nairobi, painting the city in streaks of orange and gold. Ntalami walked briskly along the avenue toward the annual art exhibition she had been invited to speak at. The air was crisp with the promise of evening, and her chest hummed with a quiet excitement. Leo had promised to meet her afterward, but for now, she was alone—focused on the women she represented, the stories she wanted to share, and the vision she had been nurturing since stepping fully into her independence. The exhibition hall buzzed with creativity, laughter, and clinking glasses. Walls adorned with bold murals and delicate sketches told the stories of struggle, resilience, and triumph. Ntalami’s heart swelled as she walked past pieces created by women from her artisan collective—each painting, each stitch, a testimony to healing and reclamation. She stopped near a large canvas, a sweeping depiction of two hands reaching through darkness toward light. The piece struck a familiar chord in her c
Last Updated : 2025-10-25
Full Circle
The morning light spilled softly through Ntalami’s window, warming her face as the city slowly awakened. The sound of distant traffic mixed with birdsong, creating a rhythm that reminded her of how far she had come — from chaos to calm, from heartbreak to wholeness. It had been months since the art exhibition — months since she last saw Duke. Life had taken on a new rhythm, not perfect but peaceful. She had finished several new crochet collections, expanded her women’s collective, and started mentoring young girls who had survived abuse and neglect. Every time she taught them to stitch colors together, she felt like she was mending tiny pieces of her own past. Healing, she had learned, was not a destination but a daily decision. This morning was special — her collective had been invited to a community event in Kibera, a healing and art festival aimed at supporting survivors through creative expression. The event was open to everyone, and Ntalami had agreed to lead a short workshop
Last Updated : 2025-11-03