The following afternoon, all her worldly possessions packed in a large brown case, which Jakab had stowed in the boot, Brigid said a subdued farewell to her housemates, hugging them all tightly, trying hard not to cry. But it was hopeless, and she sobbed bitter tears as Jakab drove her away from the life she loved to face the unknown.

‘Thank you for what you have done for my people and my country, and for the kindness and respect you have always shown me.’ Jakab had tears in his eyes as he placed her case on a trolley at Set Down in St Louis Airport, where she was taking an internal flight to the capital, Dakar.

‘Jakab, you have been my friend and guide since I arrived in your beautiful country. I could never have done the work I did without you. I was blessed by your friendship,’ Brigid said with heartfelt earnestness as they hugged each other tightly. The Senegalese man had been a true friend and had gently instructed her in the ways of his country as he had driven her in the course of her work. Brigid had depended on him greatly and had found comfort in his stalwart presence at her side.

Eyes blurred with tears, she’d got through check-in and sat awaiting her flight with a heart like lead.

Four hours later, she settled herself into a window seat in an Air France flight to Paris. Eager to catch her last glimpses of the country she loved, she was dimly aware of someone sitting in the seat beside her.

‘Sorry, Sister,’ Brigid heard an unexpected Irish voice say as she was poked in the leg with a handbag. She turned to find an elderly nun trying to locate her seat belt.

‘Sister, I think you’re sitting on it,’ Brigid said kindly. ‘Stand up and I’ll pull it out from underneath you.’

‘Oh, that’s very kind,’ said the other nun. ‘You’re Irish too.’

‘I am, for my sins,’ Brigid sighed. ‘I’m going home from my beloved Africa. I’ll miss it,’ she said, assisting the older woman to fasten her seat belt.

‘I’m going home too, I’m retiring.’

‘Should I congratulate you?’ Brigid smiled.

The old nun shook her head. ‘I’m only still in the Order because I hadn’t the guts to leave years ago when I should have, but I’ve no time for the Church or religion after what happened to my community during the Suez Crisis,’ she confided morosely.

‘The Suez Crisis, that was a long time ago,’ Brigid replied. ‘You must have been very young when you joined.’

‘I was. Fourteen. It’s all so different now, isn’t it? I’m Martha, by the way.’