The sky grew dark even though it was noon and the skies opened up. I saw the land transform. As one tree after another started to turn green. The fields were tilled once more and maize was planted. The hills were alive again. A complete circle, a testament of what I had gone through. For I too changed. I went from living in Lilongwe with my family to Makanani Mwanza. I got there without knowing a single person, I lived among them through the cold winters, the harsh summers, through the meetings and interviews. I worked with them, ate with them. I felt their happiness the same way they felt mine, shared in their sadness and their sorrows. I celebrated in their triumphs as there were mine too. I became one of them, from having a happy family back home to having one here in Makanani, Mwanza.
A full year, full of experiences and I will never replace or forget. But just as everything else, this too has come to an end. Today I walked around my site saying goodbye to the chiefs and different people. I got to the last house. The house belongs to a man I worked closely with on my shallow well project. I had spent a lot of days at his house from the very first weeks of my service. He has five children the youngest of which is Verina. She was barely three months old when I first saw her.