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So he walked away, never looking back, a deep footprint foregrounded in his mind By Nhamo Muchagumisa The crumbling walls of the old homestead felt more alive than they used to when the place was in one piece. Chamada felt his attachment to the ruined place strike a deep and sore spot in his heart. He had come down from the city for a brief inspection of his old home, now that his parents had bought immovable property in a different rural location and relocated to his new farm homestead with the entire family. The debris from the ruined walls, the weeds that made a colony of the entire place and the rusty buckets, pots, broken china plates and cups, had turned the place to a site of archaeological interest, and he was the archaeologist. He had come down for a last view of his old home as he was getting into a new life.