I See you, Burundi

M_Kelley

We landed after thirty-plus hours in transit. Jostling carry-on bags and excitement, we made it to the bottom of the stairs, stepping foot into the tarmac in the pitch dark. No lights anywhere. The terminal ahead stood black against the night sky.

I scurried across the tarmac, herding my children like chicks, until we reached the threshold and the arms of my awaiting husband. Airport workers and travelers alike were armed with cell phones, not flash lights. To the glow of iPhones, passports got stamped and luggage was claimed. It was an odd kind of carnival as we recognized friends by small, soft circles of light and greeted in shared darkness. It seemed only our laughter punctuated the molasses air, thick with humidity.

We drove away from the airport, finally having the high beams of the car. We moved toward the lights of the city, twinkling ahead and beckoning us home.

It would take the crew nearly two hours to get the electricity up and running back at the airport, stranding a jetliner and passengers eager to fly elsewhere. That’s how darkness works, sometimes.

Read the rest over at SheLoves Magazine.

Want to read more? Get new posts delivered straight to your inbox:

Share:
Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterEmail this to someone

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

*



All content on this site is copyrighted by Kelley Nikondeha. Please do not copy work without permission. You are welcome to quote or reference my blog in your article, but please make sure you link back to the original post. Please do not post an article in full without permission, because that is a violation of intellectual property. (My African friends have a different sense of this, but being American, I can tell you it does matter to me!)

All writing on this site represents my own journey, my own wrestling, my own epiphanies. While I work with Communities of Hope, ideas shared here do not necessarily represent this organization.