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As Jean-Luc grew older, he never forgot Ama. Her face would appear in his dreams, and he would wake up with a longing to see her again. He often wondered where she was, if she was okay, and if she ever thought of him.
The memories of her love and care stayed with him, standing as a constant reminder of the bond they had shared.
Life out there in France was different from life in Ivory Coast. Jean-Luc missed the warmth of the sun, the vibrant colors of the market, and the sense of community he had felt in Abidjan. But most of all, he missed Ama. He missed her smile, her laughter, and the way she made him feel loved and cherished.
As the years passed, Jean-Luc grew into a young man. He went to school, made friends, and eventually started a career. But no matter how busy his life became, he never stopped thinking about Ama. He often found himself reminiscing about their time together, the stories she had told him, and the lessons she had taught him.
One evening, as Jean-Luc sat in his apartment in Paris, he found himself flipping through an old photo album. There, among the pictures of his childhood, was a photo of him and Ama. They were standing in front of their house in Abidjan, smiling at the camera. Jean-Luc felt a lump in his throat as he stared at the photo. He realized that he had never truly thanked Ama for all she had done for him. He had never told her how much she meant to him, and how much her love had shaped the person he had become.
That night, Jean-Luc made a decision. He would go back to Ivory Coast in West Africa. He would find Ama, and he would thank her. No matter how long it would take or how difficult it would be, he owed it to her, and he owed it to himself.