Because it was so large by the standards of a village, businesses had to be competitive just as in a larger city. The predawn blue of morning slowly brightened as the sun crested the mountains far to the east. The streets came alive as children scurried off to schools, and adults tended shops, perused the marketplace, and foreigners milled about. Kenyatta stood on the balcony of their room and watched the place come to life. It reminded him of home and his life as a child with Grampa. “You’re not gonna get all teary eyed on me, are you?” Kita said from across the room. Kenyatta glanced over his shoulder to see his friend chuckling as he slipped on a pair of sandy-colored moccasin-style shoes. “Why don’t you find some business of your own and stay outta mine, ya?” Kenyatta shot back. “Hey, easy now,” Kita laughed. “No harm meant, just joking.” “Ya man, I’m knowin’ that. I’m kind of edgy today, that’s all. Last night my sister came to me.” Kita’s eyes lit up.
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