The Lost Temple

As I arrived in Africa on a research project about African artists, a young lady that was sitting beside me asked me what cologne I was wearing. I told her it was a gift and was unsure, but I'd gotten many compliments on it and thanked her. She said it smelled like African musk, something her father wore before being killed during Apartheid. She began to tear up and I hugged her. She asked me my name, I told her it was Greg. She replied saying hers was Khadijah. All of sudden I felt a bump! We landed. I told her it was a pleasure meeting her. She wished me well, and asked would I do something for her. I was a little nervous; but I said ok, what? Khadijah gave me this photo, and told me to visit THE LOST TEMPLE. I did. I never did the story on the African artists.