Strangely

As many of my friends in Liberia are leaving, one by one, the place for their new career, I again realized the old lesson: it is people who make a place special and dear to me.
It somehow hurts, as much as it did when I left our village, to learn another friends are on the way of exit. Rational part of me keeps telling me that Voinajama I know is not there anymore, and that is the life. But another part of me is missins the place, like one misses the hometown where s/he has been brought up. It is an attachment to a virtural place.