Having something of a phobia of heights, taking these pictures from hundreds of feet above the ground was a bit of a challenge for me. I look down from the first storey of a building and my head spins. However, for some odd reason, the beauty of the place somehow nulled my fear. The splendor of the view took center stage in my head, and the fear trailed in the background, like a minor nuisance. I was able to move towards the edge of the terrace at Cuckoo’s Den, my eyes locked on the incredible mosque. I momentarily forgot all about the height.
Just in case though, I made two of my cousins stand on either side of me who held me (in case I suddenly felt the urge to jump off the edge) and I clicked.
I met this child a few days ago. He came up behind me, suddenly grabbing my arm while yelling something I could not make out. Naturally, I was scared. I jumped and tried to free myself. Luckily, his father was behind him. He yanked him away from me. As his father steered him away, the child kept his head turned towards me, as if calling out for help. I noticed how scared his eyes looked. He was unsure of the world. Unsure of who he was. He was six years old and he has had epilepsy all his life.
Later, I took some pictures of him, and during the whole time he kept saying just one word: roti, roti (food)…