They found it in an abandoned bucket under a mabati canopy in the forest.
A red bucket without handles, scarred by a black crack.
It was a late July morning, it had rained all night and there were mud and puddles everywhere. Frogs hunted for insects on the pools of water; monkeys in the branches of the mango trees spied the village of men.
After dawn the wind had blown away the clouds and the sun had come out, and the sky had become as blue and pure as it can only be in Africa.
Far from there, in a room overlooking the ocean, Edward had peered out of the window and asked her:
"So we are going to the forest?"
"I'm ready."
Giorgia had smiled, slipping her camera around her neck.
The mabati canopy was at the end of the village, far from the huts, and seemed to be used for no purpose.
It smelled of urine, and some animal droppings.
Perhaps stray bush dogs used to sleep there at night.
The mabati was rusted and boarded up in the middle, under the weight of a large broken branch; the monkeys would sometimes jump on it and make a racket, then someone would come and throw stones at them.
The village was called Lalehe and the smell of the sea did not reach there, nor did its breeze.
There was dry earth there, which in the sun rose into dust and went into the eyes of the men, while in the rain it became swamp.
Giorgia had chosen Lalehe to discover an authentic piece of Kenya, she had liked the sweet sound of the name, she had liked the fact that it was a corner of land isolated from concrete civilisation.
The taxi driver had told her there was nothing down there to see, but she had pretended not to hear him.
It had suddenly started raining: they had not even noticed the dark clouds that had come in from the south.
The air had become dark and cold and the bright green of nature had faded away. Their taxi was far away, for they had walked into the forest, and even running would not get them there dry.
The men of the village had holed up in their huts, no one had offered shelter to the two wazungu who had run to find some dryness under the canopy of a mango tree.
"Let's hope it passes quickly."
She had looked up, but the sky was black and low.
He had held her tighter to shelter her from the gusts of wind. The rain, however, was beginning to creep through the thick leaves and fall on their heads.
"There is a canopy over there, under that big plant, do you see it?" He asked her.
"Yes, if we run like gazelles we won't get too wet, eh?"
And she had to laugh.
Edward took her by the hand, counted to three, and they ran together to the shelter.
There wasn't even a bench to make themselves comfortable, just a dirty, red bucket. Maybe if you tipped it over you could sit on it.
Edward gave it a kick, a cloud of flies rose buzzing in the air. And a noise was heard, a sort of muffled cry.
"Did you hear that? There's something in there."
"Keep away, maybe it's a snake."
"Snakes keep quiet, don't you know?" She teased him.
He snorted.
He approached the bucket again and moved it carefully with his foot.
It was heavy, there was something in it.
"Pass me the torch, come on."
He extended a hand behind it.
Giorgia approached and said she wanted to do it, that she was not afraid.
They both leaned over the bucket and she shone it.
The beam of light struck a small, dark silhouette.
It was wrinkled, bony, and moving.
Giorgia recoiled in fright.
"Is it an animal?" She asked him.
"I think it's a monkey, but I don't quite understand. Wait. "He broke off a twig from the plant and held the torch, then gently moved the creature into the bucket.
"Be careful, be gentle."
"Oh God no ..."
He brought his hands to his mouth, the torch fell to the ground.
"What is it love? Is it bad?"
She rested a hand on his arm.
He swallowed and shook his head.
He felt his heart pounding.
"There's a baby in there."  He whispered in disbelief.
Giorgia was horrified, her eyes and thoughts filled with dismay.