Yakabatanidzwa ruzha

n a quiet village surrounded by rolling green hills and golden fields, there lived a boy named Arin. Every morning, he stood on a dusty path outside his home, gazing far beyond the horizon. While other children played and laughed in the fields, Arin always wondered what lay beyond those distant hills. One day, he asked an old farmer, “What do you think is out there?” The farmer chuckled and replied, “More hills, more rivers… nothing worth leaving home for.” But Arin wasn’t convinced. “Someday,”