My elder brother, Kenny, was born on the 7th of April 1980 in a remote village. At birth, he was dropped by a nurse. Unfortunately, he fell on his back and damaged his spinal cord. His lower body was paralyzed. All my parents' efforts to enable him walk were to no avail.
             When Kenny was five, my parents moved to the city, and he started kindergarten. Even though he was confined to a wheel chair, he was a happy child. At least that is what I was told. When he was fifteen, I was born and he loved me very much. He would pick me up, placed me on his laps and wheeled me around for as long as he was allowed to. For as long as I could remember, we were the closest siblings, and my mum nicknamed us "fraternal twins".
             In the 11th grade, Ken told my mum that he didn't want to stay in the school for special kids, where he was. Rather, he wanted a regular high school, and my mum enrolled him. For the first year, he was mocked, bullied and found it difficult to get between classes. He always told me 'perseverance is the key to success'. I fully understood that statement, young as I was, when he was preparing his valedictory speech. He went to West Virginia University where he studied Petroleum Engineering and graduated with honors.
             I wish the story ended there, I really do, but unfortunately, it didn't. His best friend, Peter, died in the September 11th 2001 attack on the world trade center. He and Peter were, to me, the real definition of best friends forever. They went from the same high school to the same college and eventually got an apartment together. When Peter died, Kenny was demoralized and it broke all our hearts. It killed him more when he tried to enroll with the army and wasn't allowed; so he felt like he had let Peter down. However, with the help of the God and family, Kenny started to get better.
             The family went to the United States for vacation in 2004 and, because we wanted to avoid the 'summer rush', we decided to go...