For the tireless, bookish and youngish traveler, it was a tiny escapade.
In the abandoned yard, he felt a presence, yet he did not need any aid.
An old, magnificent hut had him marveling: wow, a wonder of wonders!
Chartless, it crawled with wise writings once kept by its fallen founders.
The tall teen ventured and felt a hidden script that had been forgotten.
Sodden with dirt and decay, he devoured it. It was enchantingly written.
Ntando had read about Timbuktu’s treasure trove of early scrolls on music,
philosophy, and science. Dating back to 1204, this legacy made him ecstatic.
