Chapter One: The Girl with the Silent Storm
Amina was born on a night of thunder.
Her mother often said the sky had been angry the day she arrived, as if it knew her life would carry storms within it. At just six months old, Amina experienced her first seizure. The village whispered the word kifafa with fear, as if it were a curse instead of a medical condition.
Growing up in Mwanza, Tanzania, Amina learned two things early: how to survive seizures — and how to hide them.
Her father left when she was ten. "I cannot live in fear," he had said quietly, unable to watch his daughter collapse unexpectedly. Her mother stayed strong, but Amina saw the exhaustion in her eyes.
By the time Amina turned twenty-three, she was breathtakingly beautiful — tall, smooth caramel skin, expressive brown eyes that always looked like they were carrying untold stories. Men admired her everywhere she went.
But love? Love never stayed.
The first man who truly loved her was named Brian. They met at university. He adored her smile, her intelligence, her soft laugh. One evening, during a romantic walk near Lake Victoria, she collapsed.
The seizure was violent.
Brian panicked.
He never answered her calls again.
That was the beginning of a pattern.
CHAPTER 2
The Leaving Season
Every time Amina opened her heart, it ended the same way.
Joseph, the charming entrepreneur — gone after her second seizure.
Daniel, the church pianist — left quietly after she confessed her condition.
Each heartbreak pushed her further from the girl she once was.
She decided to leave Mwanza and move to Arusha, hoping a new town would mean a new story.
In Arusha, she reinvented herself. She worked at a boutique hotel near Mount Meru. Tourists admired her grace; colleagues envied her beauty.
But she never told anyone about the pills she carried in her purse.
She feared pity more than rejection.
One evening, during a charity gala hosted at the hotel, she met him.
CHAPTER 3
The Man Who Stayed
His name was Adrian Mbeki.
He was thirty-five, wealthy, calm, commanding. A self-made businessman with hotels, real estate, and investments across East Africa.
When Adrian saw Amina, he didn't just look — he observed.
Her elegance. Her restraint. Her sadness.
He requested her assistance during the gala, extending conversations that went beyond professionalism.
"Why do you look like you are always preparing for something bad?" he once asked gently.
She laughed it off.
But Adrian was different.
He didn't rush her. He didn't flirt cheaply. He respected her silence.
When he finally asked her out, she hesitated.
"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered.
"Then don't lie to me," he replied.
It was the first time a man asked for truth instead of perfection.