Àwọn Àmì-ìwé Tí A Fẹ̀

It was a crisp March afternoon in 1998 when Rui Pedro Teixeira Mendonça, an 11-year-old boy from Lousada, Portugal, set out on his bicycle for a short ride. The street was quiet, the soft hum of the bike’s wheels on the pavement echoing in the stillness. As he pedaled closer to his mother's workpla…

It was a crisp March afternoon in 1998 when Rui Pedro Teixeira Mendonça, an 11-year-old boy from Lousada, Portugal, set out on his bicycle for a short ride. The street was quiet, the soft hum of the bike’s wheels on the pavement echoing in the stillness. As he pedaled closer to his mother's workplace, everything appeared normal, routine even, as if nothing extraordinary was about to happen. This was to be the last time anyone would ever see him. Rui had asked his mother if he could spend the aft