She is fearful, she is courageous. And she wants to be known.

I close my eyes, but sleep will not come. There are voices in my head. Her voices. Vibrant, sad, urgent, passionate. She wants to be heard. She has a pained smile, a fearless gaze, softened by the love in her heart.There is understanding in her eyes.Her hair is sometimes covered, sometimes blue, sometimes curly, sometimes … Continue reading She is fearful, she is courageous. And she wants to be known.

As an African child I grew up romanticising America, and now I am in mourning.

The green card. That was everyone’s dream and scoring one was like winning the lottery, but better. Growing up in rural Kenya 2 ½ hours drive outside Nairobi, we spoke of America in reverent tones. America was generous. She was kind. She sent plenty of USAID in corn oil and dried yellow corn to keep … Continue reading As an African child I grew up romanticising America, and now I am in mourning.