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I guess I was born to be a travel writer. I first started travelling Africa as a baby. My dad lived in Zimbabwe. I lived in South Africa with my months-old sister and my mom who was also holding a full-time job as a nurse many kilometres from our home in Soweto. My dad offered to have me live with him while my mom tended to my younger sister and her career.
For years I travelled between South Africa and Zimbabwe sometimes veering into Botswana. I must have been no more than 10 years old when my parents pushed us to travel on our own. Mom bought my sister and me matching navy tote-bags. Dad put us on the bus to Johannesburg and I’ve never looked back.
My journey has taken me to close to 20 African countries. I have also seen many more outside of the continent, but my heart belongs to the continent where God lives. I am moved by the people of Africa, the exquisite languages, cultures, and art including our majestic wildlife and nature. For the 1,3 billion people who call this place home, there are just many stories that need to be told.
Stories are my life. The stories of our ancestors, the animal spirits as well as the nature fairies.