Rains… and Cold

It is heavily raining outside. I am in Arusha. I will be sleeping in Moshi. It is pouring outside…and already looking dark. There is a maximum speed limit of 50km/h on the highway. And for the 13th time someone has been playing kwangwaru…and it’s lowkey turning me up.

I can’t help think of how life would change and start on a clean slate if I actually moved to Tanzania as a legal migrant – like I get a Tanzania citizenship. People are so so nice and awfully polite I can’t even think to lie to my boss back home. What is this? The country, in the outskirts of towns is sparsely populated, coming from where I do and for some reason it is hard to understand why people are oh so disciplined and not in a hurry to amass land, aka wealth, in this part of the Sahara.

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Next day – today.

It is so freaking cold I can’t think. It’s saddening what is happening everywhere. Bomb packages sent, journalists murdered, others kidnapped for 40 months!?! What! And Trump tweeting how CNN calls him out for being unpresidential. Talking of presidential, it is exciting to hear that Ethiopia has it’s first female president. In fact, that is the first female president in the Eastern Africa. I wonder what she feels about it.



I have been having a really hard time trying to concentrate on all other things that I should be doing because I am so excited about coming back to this little blog and about the stories I’ll write which I have absolutely no clue or plan about because pretty much I am like a Dr. Seuss of everything but writing.

I am also so excited because of this big plan that I have in my head of getting a mini around the world ticket next year and visiting a few places like Morocco, France, Greece, Norway and France and France. God! I’d love to go to France! There’s also Dubai, Canada and Phoenix (honestly don’t ask me why Phoenix because I know not why Phoenix) and New York. They said I can add London at no extra cost and why not.

It would be very good if I was an executor of plans because history has it tharae don’t. It could remain a plan between me and the computer robot that gave me an average price quote and suggested London to me and which airline Alliance is better than the other and which times I should even do the trip. Hah! Eleanor Roosevelts of everything but believing in sweetness of their dreams. This is how technology has taken over our decision making faculties and left us candy crush to crush whichever candy can be crashed. But I don’t know, I don’t care. I’m gonna remain like this until someone gives me one other crazy idea like sky diving or going for a trip to Rwanda by road for a weekend. From Nairobi.

In the meantime, I love how sweet these pawpaws taste… better than these other better looking melons.



Inspire me, New

The age of envy


ALVA SKOG for Guardian g2 181009

Social media has created a world in which everyone seems ecstatic – apart from us. Is  there any way for people to curb their resentment? – Illustration: Alva Skog

One night about five years ago, just before bed, I saw a tweet from a friend announcing how delighted he was to have been shortlisted for a journalism award. I felt my stomach lurch and my head spin, my teeth clench and my chest tighten. I did not sleep until the morning.

Another five years or so before that, when I was at university, I was scrolling through the Facebook photos of someone on my course whom I vaguely knew. As I clicked on the pictures of her out clubbing with friends, drunkenly laughing, I felt my mood sink so fast I had to sit back in my chair. I seemed to stop breathing. Continue reading “The age of envy”

Inspire me, New, Reviews

Two Years Later… *plus

“I wandered everywhere,

Through cities and countries wide,

And everywhere I went, the world was on my side… “

Hahah! This is me being corny trying to say I am back… Mainly because… Well. Long story. Let’s say life happened.

All in all the feeling is like coming back home from such a loong long voyage… which serves me right because I am miles away from home (for work – yay! I got a job 2 years ago too) in Tanzania and adult homesick is real! When did we stop crying when we felt homesick? Coz I’m just basically bored of everything and tired of doing the countdown to going back and consoling myself that this is not homesick. Continue reading “Two Years Later… *plus”