The very place that resets my buttons and gets me back on track. I come alive here. I thrive in the chaos of downtown Nairobi. my beach experience sipping Madafuu(coconut water) while walking the beach is unmatched. I can’t escape home. I can’t wish it away. I can’t fly or take a bus to another place because the language barrier is difficult. I can only embrace it and appreciate the role it has on me. It's home. 

A small city in a small country.

The palm trees and clear roads welcome you to Lomé in a beautiful way.

It draws you and gives you a feeling of wanting to discover more. 

The city goes to the beach on weekends afternoon. 

Motorbikes are the main mode of transportation; lining the parking lots outside the nightclubs.

The city runs its fuel from a bottle. A driver leaves the stage and fuels by the roadside with a saved up fuel in a plastic bottle.

The language was a barrier. We tried translating everything on language translation apps but all conversations would be by hand.

The city that prays.  Casual coffees on the streets. 

Tables were fully reserved on a Monday at the Verdes Addis They show up for the Jano band.

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The first time I had peppered snail soup was in Accra, Ghana.

 Walking through the Makola Market is a multisensory experience; the spiced herbs and calls from rival vendors.

I loved the artist showcase on the streets.

When you board a flight and the pilot says ‘cabin crew please take your seats and prepare for takeoff’ and you wait as the wheels and engine ramps up and you take off. It’s then that you look out of the window watching the little place you had made home fade away. Every moment from the day you first departed your home town flood your head. You remember the people you have met and their stories. You relive all the sensations of your journey(the tastes, the smells, the sights, the sounds), and you hope those memories will never leave you.