Leaving is not the easiest thing to do.

Dear Journal,

It’s my last night in my village of Ngouname, Palmarin, Senegal. I’m currently in the process of wrapping up my packing but I just cant get myself to finish putting the last five things I have in my room in my bag. It’s as if right when I’m done packing, it’s for sure going to over. My whole experience here, with my family, friends, neighbors and just the village itself will be done.

All three of my siblings are currently on my bed laying down and watching me pack. Knowing that tomorrow I will not be able to hear their voices, play with them, hear their laughter will be one of the hardest things to let go. I haven’t even discussed saying bye to my mother. Today she’s brought the topic of me leaving about five times, and I’ve quickly changed the topic every time it was brought up, in fear that I would start crying in front of her. Luckily my father hasn’t made it back yet from work, because I know once he comes home; he’s probably going to make a big speech (like he always does), which will definitely start up my tears.

My father told me today that I was welcome back anytime I want. He said that I am and will always be part of the family. He said that he would never forget me, because a father never forgets their daughter.

I am going to have to make this entry short. If I keep on writing, I think I’ll start to break down. My mom just finished dinner anyway. My last dinner with my family till God knows when. Excuse me while I enjoy ever last morsel of my mothers cooking.


Much love,

Daba nga Faye