20 Years in East Africa

As I type, this day marks my 20^th anniversary of my life on the African continent. Exactly two decades ago I arrived in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, to begin what I thought would be a relatively short chapter of my life to do some good work to support the people of the country but also mix in some fun exploration and adventure (possibly a Mt. Kilimanjaro climb). I didn’t set a specific timeline as to how long I might stay but I assumed it might be something like 2-3 years.

adventures in California - seems so long ago

I had tucked in to a nice life on the coast of California. I had taken up surfing, triathlons and had been doing plenty of adventures in the back country. Professionally I wasn’t very satisfied and was barely making ends meet, but I was comfortably distracted by my non-work life.

That all came to an end as the Harvard School of Public Health offered me an opportunity to set up logistical and financial systems to manage a multi-million-dollar HIV/AIDS project in Tanzania. Though the hiring process would take months and involved a certain degree of uncertainty, I threw caution to the wind and began dismantling my California life. I put my belongings in storage and would move from the Pacific Coast to the Indian Ocean coast.

* * *

I remember arriving in Dar from Boston late at night, exiting the airport into the warm, humid tropical air. Two guys from our project, one from India and the other from the US, were there to pick me up. I remember driving through the city just before midnight staring out the window at what would be my crazy new world. Though I had traveled a lot in my life up to that point, my only experience in Africa had been a couple of months in the Cote d’Ivoire in West Africa in 1990. This would be a vastly different experience.

my first couple weeks in Dar, my vehicle would the the one on the left, Priya's cool truck is on the right

We arrived at the large but rather simple guesthouse not far from the center of the city. I would be staying with about a half dozen other expats from various countries, all of whom were involved in the research side of the project. I found out quickly that there was always a bit of a stir when a new person arrived to work on the project. There were lots of questions and I did my best to fend them off given that it was now after midnight and I was functioning on little to no sleep and eight hours of jet lag. Eventually I was able to drag my bags to my new room, turn on the fan, slip under my mosquito net and pass out.

One interesting side note about my arrival is that my future wife was among the interrogators. Somewhat ironically, she was probably the least curious of the group, barely getting out of her patio hammock to greet me. In her defense, she did have a boyfriend at the time and she was a bit embarrassed by the attention I received from the others.

Adapting to life in Dar was a fascinating and rich experience. Though I worked long hours, I took advantage of my weekends explore the country. And yes, Mt. Kilimanjaro was checked off my to-do list.

 

* * *

Kibondo/Dar

By 2007, I had changed organizations and Priya and I had married. We were offered positions in a remote part of northwest Tanzania. It was one of the most difficult jobs I ever had but it was possibly the most rewarding, supporting four rather large refugee camps. 

a year in remote Tanzania

Having a high-pressure job, living off the grid in a tiny house with a squat toilet in the middle of nowhere was an acid test for a young marriage. But it turned out to be quite wonderful. Not only did we survive, we seemed to embrace the whole experience. I was almost reluctant when the call came a year later with an offer of a promotion and an opportunity to move back to Dar es Salaam. In the end, it made sense to make the move and by the beginning of 2008, we were back in Dar. I would still be overseeing our work in the country, but now it would be dealing with the politics and donor relations. 

Priya

me

We did have plenty of adventures and it was a fantastic period in our lives, but after two and a half years, I was offered the opportunity to move to Bujumbura to oversee the organization’s programs in Burundi and Rwanda.

* * *

Bujumbura

Though we enjoyed our time on the coast, professionally I felt the need for a new challenge. Plus, given that I already spoke French and had been working with Burundian refugees, I was particularly well-suited for the new position. In retrospect, it turned out to be a good move. From 2010 to 2014, it was an amazing time. We grew to become the largest non-governmental organization (NGO) in the country. The work we were doing was changing lives and it was exciting to be a part of it. But more importantly, it was during this time that I became a father to two daughters.

becoming parents in Burundi

Though Burundi has perpetually been wracked by bad governance and corruption, it’s still a wonderful place. It’s stunningly beautiful, has perfect weather year-round, and the people are (generally speaking) delightful. It was also a great place to have small children (as long as you don’t need much pediatric care) and we ended up staying longer than I thought we would. 

remote Burundi

By 2015, however, the wheels, fragile as they were to begin with, began to come off. Violence was on the rise and nightly gunfire became increasingly concerning. Eventually there was a failed coup attempt and things began to spin out of control even further. The majority of the international community fled almost overnight, mostly by road since the airport had shut down. Needless to say, it was a frightening time. I stayed behind but my family would eventually need to be temporarily evacuated to Rwanda. It was ugly and sad. With occasional bullets reaching our house, it was time to explore other options. Having children in this environment was becoming increasingly irresponsible.

Nairobi and the Somalia Program

It took a few months but eventually I was able to make a switch to the Somalia country program in the latter part of 2016. Indeed, it would be out of the frying pan and into the fire, but the family could be based in Nairobi, and they would be more or less out of harm’s way. As the girls were getting older, Nairobi provided more stimulation than the sleepier Bujumbura, and it would make more sense in the long run.

 displaced in Somalia

But working in Somalia has lived up to its billing as a daunting posting in many ways. Admittedly, it’s an acquired taste. It’s been a wild ride with chaos seemingly around every corner. I’m well beyond the shelf-life of the average expatriate in my position, but yet I still remain. The interesting thing about this context is that, at least for me, it has a seductive side to it. Though it’s harsh and difficult, I keep coming back for more. I have a great team. We’re doing some amazing work. And geopolitically, it’s one of the most fascinating contexts in the world. But, admittedly, it is wearing me out.

* * *

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Twenty busy years in a nutshell. Despite the insecurity. Despite the corruption. Despite the world’s disregard for the humanitarian impact of climate change. Despite the damage caused by the disappearance of funding. I still get up in the morning and take the punches. I guess it’s because I still believe in what we’re doing. I still believe that the marginalized of this world deserve our attention, regardless of where they live and what they believe. It would be a lot easier to just walk away and pretend that the suffering isn’t there or that it’s not my problem. But I can’t unsee the things I’ve seen over these last two decades. I cannot turn my back.

“Compassion is not weakness and concern for the unfortunate is not socialism.”

-Hubert Humphrey, US Vice President (27 May 1911-1978)

How long I stay remains to be seen. Regardless, I’m thankful for all the crazy experiences and wouldn’t change a thing.

 

Mogadishu

I’m back in Mogadishu after some time away. I made my normal trek to the airport at 4am on Sunday. It's the beginning of the work week in Somalia so arriving then it’s a good way to maximize my workweek. But it also means driving through what is essentially an extension of a Nairobi Saturday night. Our neighborhood does not have the leafy, opulent and quiet feel that you find in other parts of the city. Across from our building is a casino which is usually quite active until early morning, even during the week. When you get to the end of our street, you can see the first of many prostitutes dispersed over the next few blocks. As the taxi makes its way, you can see people are staggering along the side of the road after leaving one of the local bars. Several homeless people are nestled here and there.  It must be the saddest time of the day to see a city.

* * *

After arriving at the airport, I made it through the gauntlet in fairly good time, all things considered. A few things contribute to chaos when going through security at this terminal which, at this time of day, is mostly dedicated to flights to Somalia. Firstly, Somalis are not big fans of queuing, and you end up with dozens of people elbowing each other, tossing large bags on the conveyor belt, forgetting about the large quantities of metallic bling and trying to walk through the metal detector, etc. You also have huge quantities of bags. Given how difficult it is to ship goods in and out of Somalia, people tend to push the envelope when it comes to airline baggage allowance. I’ve seen car tires wrapped in plastic, microwave ovens, massive jugs of cooking oil, etc. One by one, hulking bags are thrown onto the conveyor belt, some barely squeezing through the opening of the scanner. There are always lots of babies and toddlers. The little ones don’t do well in the early morning and it’s never easy for the mothers (I would say ‘parents’, but Somali dads generally aren’t super engaged when it comes to helping with kids). The cries add to what is already a chaotic and noisy scene.

My Somali friends just laugh at this sort of thing and take it in stride. It’s probably a healthier reaction. It used to really stress me out as I have a tendency to process map everything – imagining what I would do if I were in charge of the place to make it more efficient. Nowadays, I still stress out but not as much as before. I spend less wasted energy mentally fixing everything and accept it for what it is. I show up early and navigate the mess with a calming podcast of some kind, weaving my way through mayhem with my small carry-on and zero bling, just letting chaos be chaos, knowing that at some point I will get to the other side.

* * *

After checking in and going through immigration, there is place to grab a hot drink. Given that this is not the main terminal, the offerings of the waiting area are minimal (but you can actually get a decent cappuccino). I take a seat near the window, open my laptop and start in.

When it’s time to board the plane, I generally hang back and let the chaos unfold while I wait patiently on the tarmac watching the sun rise. There is a downside to this approach. Often times, as I am one of the last to board, my seat is taken. Yes, it is reserved seating, but some people (particularly older people) are oblivious to such a concept, or it’s just someone who figures that number on the boarding pass is advice to be ignored, much like a stoplight or a “No Trespassing” sign.

On this occasion, an older Somali gentleman was in my seat. He didn’t speak a word of English, so it took some time to sort it out. He didn’t seem to want to move. Eventually he slid over to the window (which wasn’t his seat either causing further chaos) and I was able to sit down. The poor guy didn’t have much experience being in an airplane. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him unsuccessfully trying to figure out how to open the tray table. Eventually I reached over, turned the knob and the tray came down. Though he seemed happy to learn how the tray worked, it didn’t seem to be what he wanted. He had a water bottle in his hand, and I think he may have thought it would be some sort of small cupboard rather than a tray. I showed him that there was a seat pocket below where he could put the bottle which seemed to satisfy him. It appeared that I would be assisting him throughout the flight.

They do serve a small meal on these short flights. They come in a small box and it’s always the same combination of a chicken pocket thing, a small yogurt and an apple. My seatmate spent some time staring at the yogurt in his box. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was not familiar with that type of food (or container) but as it turned out it may have been more about tremors in his hands which I hadn’t noticed previously. He struggled to get the plastic spoon to his mouth due to the considerable shaking of his hands, pulling the cup up near his mouth. In the end, he was able to get the job done. Age is a cruel thing.

* * *

I arrived in Mogadishu without being able to nap on the hour-and-a-half-flight. Exiting the airplane, the air was hot and humid. Interestingly, the flight takes you across the equator and you officially switch seasons. It’s not very far but things do change. The Somali “summer” is unfolding (whereas the Kenyan “winter” is unfolding). No one has ever asked me, and that’s likely because they have better things to do, but does the toilet flush in the opposite direction after my short flight north?

I confess that I think it’s an interesting question and yes, I tested it back when I lived in Tanzania. The Coriolis effect is a real thing – the phenomenon influenced by the earth’s rotation that determines why and how cyclones rotate, and why they also rotate in opposite directions in the northern and southern hemispheres.

But does it impact sinks or toilets? Sadly, no. It’s a myth. The effect is only noticeable over large areas. Moreover, toilets don’t just drain; the water is usually injected into the bowl at an angle, which completely overwhelms the tiny Coriolis effect. Sink drains and toilet basins usually have imperfections in them that can also influence the spin of the water. So if you were planning on taking your first flight to the Southern Hemisphere just to see the Southern Cross and watch a toilet drain in the opposite direction, it may not be worth the price of the ticket.

* * *

View of the Indian Ocean from our roof; "green zone" beach with no tourists and two guard towers

Though I don’t like time away from family, I must admit that it’s good to be back in Mogadishu. It’s much easier to do my job from within Somalia than from outside. Yes, insecurity is an issue, but that quite literally comes with the territory.

Case in point, as I was moving by armored vehicle from the airport to our office, I received word of an IED (improvised explosive device) attack in the neighborhood to the north of us. It turned out to be a suicide attack on a military recruitment facility. Eleven people have reportedly been killed and at least thirty wounded. It’s always horrible, but it is a fact of life here. If it happened anywhere else, it would be global news. And it wouldn’t be the last bombing of my visit.

* * *

One of the main reasons for my trip is to sort out some restructuring given the huge funding cuts we have been experiencing. I was advised by one staff member that I shouldn’t come as it could be dangerous after terminating over a third of our team. I didn’t scoff at the remark given that I know how things work here. A job is a very serious matter, representing not only an individual but often times one or more families. One staff I am in the process of terminating has 23 children and 3 wives. I heard today that the head of HR for one of our peer agencies was punched by a disgruntled staff, breaking his nose in the process. Given how people here often handle grievances here, I’d say he probably got off easy.

* * *

Dinner on night one was camel stew and chapati. That would be dinner on night three as well. Chapati is an unleavened flatbread that is a staple in a lot of the world (India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Kyrgyzstan, Sri Lanka, the Arabian Peninsula, East Africa, and the Caribbean). The way the Somalis prepare it is generally a bit thicker and oilier than what you find in Kenya (which is oilier than what you find in India and Nepal). It’s good, but it’s super unhealthy. Camel, on the other hand, is supposedly healthier than beef. Not sure if they cancel each other out.

The week went well. It was densely packed with meetings, mostly face-to-face but a few online as well. It’s the nature of the beast when I come to Mogadishu given that I’m away so much, particularly lately.

* * *

Early Tuesday morning, I was lying in bed awake. At 5:20, there was a large blast. The AC was off so the sound came through the window loud and clear, even causing a vibration. Then the sirens came on in the distance signaling to me that it was a probably a mortar shell landing in or near the “green zone” of the airport. That seems to be the mortar target of choice lately. Within less than a minute, there was a second explosion. Then a third, fourth and fifth.

I have been in Mogadishu on many occasions when there have been mortar attacks, hotel sieges, car bombs and suicide attacks (like what we had on Sunday). As it’s unfolding, I admit that it’s quite scary. Even though you know that there’s little chance of it hitting you, it’s still a tense time. Given our location and the location of where they are normally launched, the projectiles are flying over the top of us as they make their way to their destination. A few weeks ago, one landed a block from our office.

I continued to check my phone for the security alerts and finally one confirmed that they were indeed mortar shells and that they did land in or near the airport. But within an hour I heard a plane taking off and the situation seemed to have normalized. In the end, there were no casualties and it appears that they landed in more or less harmless locations. There is a theory that the intention this type of attack is usually just that – send a signal but avoid a lot of carnage. They do want carnage at times, such as the attack on Sunday at the army recruitment center. But for the international community, it seems they are okay with sending a message. It can all seem random at times, but there appears to be a method to the madness.

* * *

So now I’m at the airport preparing to return to Nairobi. I cannot do any public posting of my presence in the country until I’m out, or at least in the “green zone” on my way out like right now. I’ve had situations where staff of government officials posted photos of our meetings even while I was in the vehicle returning to our office. That’s not ideal but you can’t control that sort of thing. You just try to take whatever precautions you can.

I’m tired and sweaty, but happy to be coming to the end of the week. Not the first time I’ve spent my birthday like this. Possibly won’t be the last.

School Break & Nairobi National Park

Our daughters have been on break for the past two weeks. The French system, like the Swiss system where I taught for several years, divides the school year into trimesters. There are 2-week breaks in October, February and May which serve as separators between each term. It’s a positive and a negative that the May term is separate from Easter. A negative is that our vacations don’t mesh with those of our friends whose children attend other schools. It’s often nice for the kids (and parents) to go on holiday together – particularly since siblings tend to tire of each other after a few days of life with no school.

2025 Easter eggs

 

The upside of the different schedule is that it’s much easier to book travel when you’re the only school on break. So much changes in this country during the official school breaks. Traffic in Nairobi decreases noticeably as thousands of people are not ferrying their kids to school, often sending the kids "up country" to stay with extended family. National parks and hotels on the coast experience sharp increases in bookings. It’s always worthwhile to consider this phenomenon when planning anything involving travel in Kenya.

* * *

mountain biking

This May, all of that was less of an issue for us. As the humanitarian sector has taken a huge funding hit over the past few months, thousands of jobs have disappeared. The positions that so far remain are less certain. Financial prudence is paramount for anyone in this line of work, particularly until the dust settles a bit more. So we continue to tighten our belts and try to be more careful in the weeks and months ahead.

laser tag

For the kids, this translates to a bit less excitement than they are accustomed to this time of year. I have to say, compared to some kids, our girls do quite well when they are afforded some down time. They have non-screen-related hobbies and interests that sidestep the abyss of social media. But it does take some creativity to infuse some much-needed physical activity each day. 

girls' first every cake made all by themselves (for Mothers' Day)

 

* * *

Nairobi National Park

As the past two weeks wound down, we were able to find some time to venture out to Nairobi National Park. Each time that we go, we wonder why we don’t do it more often. It’s reasonably inexpensive and the gate, in the wee hours of the morning, is about ten minutes from our door. It’s an amazing gift for residents and visitors to Nairobi.

We have our game drive routine down to a science. We’re out of bed in the dark of early morning. Coffee is brewed. Hot chocolates are prepared and thermoses are filled. Priya usually focuses on the drinks and snacks and I assemble cameras, binoculars, wildlife books, etc. The girls tend to enjoy these outings so they are pretty good at dealing with the early morning and the stagger down to the vehicle. They get more excited as we approach the park, pass through the gate and head out into the green countryside.

It's not always verdant, of course. We are in the midst of the rainy season so the vegetation was at the peak of its lushness. In fact, we had had a couple of days of heavy rains and we had some concern about the roads. Some of the minor roads in the park can become impassable, or barely passable, either because of thick mud or the deepness of the streams or both. Generally speaking, however, if you stay on the main roads you usually don’t have any problems.

* * *

At first I thought this was some kind of owl given that it had a wide head. Turned out to be a black-winged kite.

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was up by the time we were in the park. Dawn is often a good time to be on a game drive since you can sometimes catch the tail end of the night’s activity. Dusk is often good as well, but the parks close at 6pm and limit you from staying out until the sun fully sets (remember that we’re near the equator so there isn’t much variation in the timing of the setting/rising sun year-round). An exception to the rule about being in the park at night is when you are on an approved, guided night safari which I’ve done only once.

male ostrich - Masai race

I’ve mentioned before that there are positives and negatives to being on safari without a guide. The positives are that a) you can leave the driving to someone else, b) you can tap into some interesting facts about the animals, c) they know the parks better than you and there’s less guesswork when coming to forks in the road, and c) since they carry VHF radios, you can benefit from their networking regarding key animal sightings.

African spoonbill

We’ve done a lot of both, but I tend to favor being guideless. I like the freedom of being at the wheel and making my own decisions. I know some of the parks quite well by now and can navigate fine without a guide or map. As for the interesting facts, having done this for two decades now, even the kids are steeped in knowledge about the animals. It’s not that we don’t have anything to learn. You can always expand your knowledge on the animals and their behavior. But it’s not like it was twenty years ago when we were hanging on the guides’ every word.

giraffe - Masai race

The challenge is always the last point about awareness of animal sightings. That’s the one that can put you at a disadvantage compared to the vehicles with guides. We did find out, however, that there are some limitations to the information sharing. In most parks, guides tend to communicate more with other guides from their respective company or, as we experienced in Masai Mara, guides from their own tribe/language. Multilingual guides can broaden their awareness on the radios if they’ve learned to understand other tribal languages.

wattled starlings on a rhino's back

* * *

great white egret

Within fifteen minutes of entering the park, we saw our first lion. Shortly thereafter we saw our first rhinos. Nairobi National Park is a home to the highest density of black rhinos in Kenya with about 76 indigenous black rhinos and 13 white rhinos. We saw some of both.

white rhinos

As you might guess, rhinos are neither black nor white. In fact, they are not distinguishable by color. They’re all some shade of gray. “Black” rhinos are browsers, with a pointed, prehensile upper lip for grabbing leaves and twigs, while “white” rhinos are grazers, with a wide, square-shaped upper lip for feeding on grass. They also differ in size, with white rhinos generally larger and heavier. You can see that the ones in these photos are white rhinos given the shape of the upper lip.

white rhino

We were told by a friend that the rhinos in this park are doing so well that they have begun relocating some to other places. Part of their survival depends on them having enough territory of their own. As big as NNP is, there is a limit to the numbers of certain animals.

savanna baboon

We would be out for about 3-4 hours before we decided that we would head out for some food. I could spend all day hanging out in the park but we all had other things that we needed to do that afternoon. We generally go to the same restaurant not far from the gate for a late breakfast. As I said, it’s such a great way to spend a morning. Hopefully we won’t wait so long before we do it again.

Nile crocodile