Raising A Pandemic Baby

Raising A Pandemic Baby

I return from a two week trip away from my home to find my little daughter at the door as I enter the house. I bend down to give her a hug but she is not too keen on it. I was expecting her to grab my leg and declare how much she missed me while I was away. Instead, she is only briefly interested in my suitcase before she runs back into the living room. I hear her mother calling after her, “Come back baby, come say Hello to Daddy properly”. 

I have come to accept that my daughter is not like those kids I have watched on Youtube videos, who wait expectantly at glass doors and start to jump up and down in excitement at the sight of their fathers returning home. It is one of the first lessons I picked up as a parent. Children are different. My relationship with my children is not conditional to things that please me.  The power to parent, is to accept children as they are. 

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The African Tourist

The African Tourist

It was the time before corona. 

Jamaa, a regional technology sales leader, travelled to Europe from Nairobi to report to the head office in Stockholm. While on these annual trips, he never ventured on his own beyond the confines of the head offices or hotel. His spirit of adventure was limited to packaged city tours buses. He concluded that he could only handle Europe in small doses and usually after a week, he would be eager to return to the familiarity of Nairobi. 

But after a generous company bonus, he decided to do something selfish, urged on by a senior executive who subtly reminded him to prioritise his mental health. 

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Ruud Gullit’s Barber

Ruud Gullit’s Barber

Stadhouderskade is a teeming thoroughfare in the heart of Amsterdam, part of the city centre ring connecting Amsterdam-West to Amsterdam-South. It begins at a bridge over the Amstel river snakes for two kilometres alongside a series of canals, running past the historic Vondelpark, Leidseplein, the Amsterdam Marriott and several national monuments like the iconic Rijksmuseum.

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An Encounter With Blackness in Amsterdam

An Encounter With Blackness in Amsterdam

The Dam square, a major tourist trap in Amsterdam, is one of its busiest locations, often teeming with visitors flowing from the streets of Kalverstraat, Damstraat and Nieuwendijk in the heart of the Amsterdam canal zone.

Dam Square is within walking distance of the Red-Light district and the Amsterdam Central Station. On the east side of the tram tracks is the Amsterdam national monument, a prominent obelisk erected in 1956 in memory of the World War II soldiers, that I hardly noticed when I arrived in Amsterdam in September 2019 from Nairobi, Kenya.

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Of Chapati, Identity and Migrant Politics in Europe

Of Chapati, Identity and Migrant Politics in Europe

In the mid-90s, my mother paid a visit to an aunt who had emigrated to Scandinavia and settled in Stockholm, Sweden, for over two decades. Of the many memories she held on to from that trip abroad, her most notable was the culture shock she suffered at a lunch that my aunt’s neighbour had hosted in honour of the guest from Africa. Swedish staples were laid out: cinnamon buns, pancakes, pea soup, mashed potatoes, pickled cucumbers, cheese and lots of bread. After sampling foods that did not appeal to her palate, my mother turned to my aunt and whispered in Dholuo, a touch of concern in her voice, “Gikelo chiemo saa adi?” (What time are they bringing out the food?)

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