In 2018, I moved to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, for work. It was an exciting new start with fresh roles and responsibilities. It allowed me to do things I only dreamed of at the time, building the systems and staff of a communication department from scratch. It was a rollercoaster.
There were many long days and late nights and dreaming of work when I was asleep. It was a great experience, but workaholism took its toll. Walks along the Indian Ocean in the evening were calming, but it wasn’t enough to mentally shut down.
Every three to four months, I would request my boss to allow me to work remotely. She did, and it’s on those trips I would come back to Kenya to get some break from the pressures of work and not much support from the community to home where my friends and family who loved me were.
Every time I flew in, I would always get a window seat, and from time to time, I would witness such beauty and majesty, the snow peak of Mt Kilimanjaro on my way back home. The pilot pointed it out on a Kenya Airways flight; it sent a wave of calm through me. I snapped a picture with my cellphone and eased back into my seat. It felt good to be heading home.
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