By Ikeddy Isiguzo It was just a day, if ever there was such a day, for people in the city. Something was strange about the young taxi driver. His troubles were ahead of him. One could feel them. The long sighs, the endless ringing of his phone. He never took the calls. He seemed to have exhausted solutions to whatever bothered him. A conversation began. What could be the matter with him? Why the accompanying sighs which were getting longer? Shouldn’t he take his calls? More sighs before he blurted…
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