Kenya, Sept. 2 -- For three gruelling years, our home was a storm of discord. What should have been a sanctuary turned into a warzone of yelling, distrust, and heavy silences. Each day felt like navigating a minefield, with no certainty that love could ever resurface. Living under one roof, we became strangers, each bearing wounds that made forgiveness feel impossible and hope even more distant. At our lowest, I feared we were doomed to stay fractured forever. In that bleakness, a faint glimmer emerged.
A friend spoke of family spells and Dr Bokko, renowned for mending broken homes. Doubt gripped us-how could rituals heal scars so raw? But exhaustion makes you cling to even the tiniest spark. With weary but open hearts, we decided to try. That choice became our turning point. Healing wasn't instant. It unfolded gradually, like soft rain reviving parched earth. Bit by bit, the resentment that had suffocated us began to fade. We saw subtle shifts: a gentle word replacing a sharp retort, a fleeting smile breaking through the quiet. To read more, click here.
Published by HT Digital Content Services with permission from Bana Kenya.