His father and his father’s friends, men who had (according to his father) been entrusted with guarding the manuscripts over the last forty years, had been moving the manuscripts gradually, after hearing rumors that al-Qaeda was coming. “Yet only a few of them can read them,” Issaka whispered. He sighed tiredly. Over twenty-four hours of travel to surprise his parents with an early arrival and he was the one surprised. His father had never spoken about being some guardian of ancient books.
There's something beautiful (and maybe sad) about not being able to read, but still knowing the value of these books.
