One cold bitter night a girl walks with quick steps back home. The more she walks ,the faster she moves. No turning back ,she just continues to walk. Before she could take another turn she is hit from behind. Blood is oozing from her skull. The thieves fish into her bag. They give to themselves her money. Three thousand shillings in cash. One with a torch in hand spots a ring on her finger. He grabs it and almost ripping her finger off.
Early the next morning a lady in a Kitenge  passes by this road of slaughter. She almost trips from a hand outstretched from the bush. She turns and the first thing she says Anabelle! Anabelle! It was her mother. Tears drip down her chicks as she looks at the lifeless body of her only girl. Next to the body is a phone which looks very familiar – it belongs to her child who is no more. She picks it up and In denial she screams… Anabelle please wake up.  An ambulance comes loudly with its siren almost as if to say make way. At the city hospital she is pronounced dead on arrival.
The next day at about 2 am a call is received on the Late Anabelle’s phone and the user calling is saved as BFF.
The mum’s head is spinning BFF… BFF …BFF … then she picks it up
” Hello”
” Hello mama Bella”
” Hi ”
At this point mama Bella’s voice sounds low…
On realizing this BFF says…
“Could I speak to Bella…”
“Leila I know you will be taken a back but Bella is gone …. She is gone Leila ….she is gone… She was attacked by thugs and now she is gone”

In disbelief Leila hangs up… runs to her room, sits down and cries.
In her mind she is thinking….
” In the morning we were laughing online and now she is gone … No…No…Noooo”
Denial creeps into her mind she cannot comprehend .
“Bella… Why did they do such a thing to her? What did she do to deserve such a  of gruesome death from people who probably do not know her?” WHY?

It was sombre mood at the burial. One by one all who knew Bella spoke of her great life. Hearing the eulogy being read you could tell it was the truth. Her life as it  was – no added flavors or subtracted ingredients.
Leila sat still and sang along with the other mourners

God be with you till we meet again;
By his counsels guide, uphold you;
With his sheep securely fold you.
God be with you till we meet again.
Till we meet, till we meet,
Till we meet at Jesus’ feet,
Till we meet, till we meet,
God be with you till we meet again.

Leila thought quietly. She was a prayer partner. Her soul is in a better place. I know it for sure.