I wish to let go of my dreams of America or more precisely, a holiday in the Americas. To leave behind, the tears that stream down my face every time I see my pretty niece and handsome nephews. Faces that I can only glimpse in Whatsapp images and like in Facebook timelines. Those adorable little’s I wish I could reach out to, inside my phone screen, if ever that was possible.
This is how it goes. Spending four months to make true something you wish to death. Praying harder than you’ve ever done. Hoping against hope. Practicing your sentences an hour in front of the mirror every day. Diaries scribbled with possible questions and answers to them. All disappear in five minutes, ending with the words, “You are not eligible for a visa.”
I’ve heard this sentence three times and each time is harder than before. You see it in…
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