Zinu’s Life of Colour

Lillian Akampurira Aujo

Like any other morning, Zinu awoke from a sleep alive with colour. In his dreams he was in the classroom, seated at the front desk. The vague murmurs of the other children floated around him, but his eyes were trained on the shiny Bata shoes twinkling up at him. His gaze trailed up the black trouser legs of the man who wore the shoes like he had been born in them. The man turned and pointed a stick at something on the blackboard.

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