Amongst other things today, I chilled out with a friend I have made in Nyalenda. We had an awesome time as I taught him some guitar chords and he sang while I strummed. We had some great renditions of no woman no cry, redemption song and Let it be…all of which sound cheezy but when he sang them he really made it sound like his own song and had such spirit and feeling to his voice.
I was amazed that he lived in his own house (made of mud and stone with a tin roof) as someone his age, early twenties, usually lives with his parents. His father died when he was young and had lost many siblings to sickle sell anemia and he told me that he supported his mother and remaining siblings through his enterprise. His story was so inspiring and we shared a great afternoon together.
The mix of mud, rotting rood and plastic bags that make up most of the roads and pathways in Nyalenda just seems normal now the small mud huts, children playing in stagnant water and millions of children shouting "Mzungu how are you" all seems just part of day to day life.
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