We can pick and choose the memories that define our life and piece them together like a puzzle.
Many years ago, in the wake of my mother’s death, I traveled to Africa for the first time. Uganda.
Our time to leave Kalagala eventually came, and my family embarked upon a classic Kenyan safari.
The three of us headed for Tanzania where I met Moshi Changai, a pivotal piece to this story.
From Tanzania, we made our way to the island of Zanzibar, a place to pause and reflect, and to write.
We left Zanzibar for Marrakesh, where the sound of Muslim prayers echoed from the speakers.
Life returned to normal—for just a little while. We returned home, and Zoe went back to School.
Fast-forward six years, and once again, Tanzania stood before my daughter and me.
Our destination was Kondoa, but to get there, we had to board a cramped bus like a bunch of sardines.
Before making our way to Cheku, we visited many of the surrounding Irangi villages first.