Minty: "Since your story is scattered throughout your works, I want to talk about that reflection. You mentioned that Yvonne and Jervien's story was a lesson you both needed to learn."
Minty: "Sometimes, when we look back at the things we wrote in the past, we see characters who are still running or searching—much like you were during your seven years of atheism. When you revisit the glimpses of yourself in your older stories, do you ever want to reach into the pages and tell that version of Iboni that 'Home' is closer than she thinks? Or do you trust that the 'Iboni' in those books had to go through the long way around to appreciate the 'shba' she has now?"
[The audience watches, wondering if Iboni look back at her past scattered selves with a sense of 'I wish I knew then' or a sense of 'It was all part of the plan.']
Iboni: "Oh, that girl only learns the hard way, Minty! [Laughs] But I trust her that she'll get through. Fun fact, in my atheist years, I always tell myself and others to 'just trust'. I don't know what I trust at that time. I don't know where I want others to put their trust. But simply just trust. Trust that things will get better, that things will change. And despite the fact that I was an atheist, I still respect the religion that I was raised in and other religions as well. Because—just as I said in the first interview—it's not expensive to be a decent person and respect others."
[The audience is completely charmed by Iboni's "hard way" admission—there are plenty of knowing smiles and 'me too' chuckles. But as she explains that blind trust that she held even as an atheist, the mood shifts to one of deep reflection. It's a powerful testament to the idea that even when we think we've walked away from the Light, our language and our character can still carry the echoes of it. Iboni's point about the "cost" of being a decent person earns a spontaneous round of applause from the corner of the studio.]
Minty:[Nodding thoughtfully] "It's as if your heart was speaking a language your head hadn't translated yet. You were telling people to 'trust' because, deep down, the 'Daughter' in you knew there was someone Trustworthy, even if the 'Author' hadn't written Him into the script yet. And that respect you showed? That's the 'soil' we talked about—it stayed fertile even in the desert."