Colored clothing, music, dance created a vibrant atmosphere in North Ogaza. Every building no matter how small and lowly was decorated with colored ribbons and bright lights. Food sellers lined up their trucks at the sides of the streets and roads, giving out some baked goods for free, and selling the others. Jewelers, cobblers, tailors, everyone was out marketing and jollying. It was a fine day, not too sunny, not too windy.
Yes, it was Commemoration, a mournful reminder of the soldiers and citizens who died during the war, but on the flip side of that painful coin, was the reminder that they survived the merciless war, and were waxing strong as a kingdom!
“Are we ready?!” Master Poja called, clad glamorously in a wine-red cashmere top and pants, black kufi
