Mental Clarity Space

“The time is always right to do what is right,” Martin Luther King. It was 5.00 a.m. and Abdillahi Youssouf was keen not to miss the morning's magical skies. In his meditation, he reflected on the events and journey that had led to visit one of the greatest Islands in the beloved continent. He has been the longest-serving President in Djibouti. The country was, however, undergoing political tensions during the uprising of the Arab Spring. He was privileged to gaze at the slothful sea, ebbing so gently, a reflection of peace in its Neptune-blue glory. The pink beach felt soft like he was walking on a blanket of candy floss. Shimmering pink sand swept around in a scythe of the shore, howling in by towering cliffs. Far out of the ocean, rays saturate the surface with a golden gaze. The horizon seemed woven with a line of silver. Abdillahi was in awe of the aura, as it felt like paradise. The calmness of the ocean reminded him how Djibouti was when he first rose to power. He assumed th...

“Chaos can be beautiful if you love all your ingredients.”- Celerie Kemble The days were long, and the nights ushered periods of self-doubt, helplessness catalysed by the events and seasons that left us hopeless. A weary mental state, isolated emotions, ignored the physical state, and desolated spiritual life defined our situation. It was this kind of distress that prompted our journey to Ngazidja in Comoros. Golden Tulip Grande Comore Moroni was our home for two weeks. The restaurant was on a private beach. We had devoted ourselves to exploring the area amidst our mystery while trying to unveil the world's beauty with a hope to tap the beauty within. Scuba divers walked along the coastal beaches free-spirited and in awe of the tranquillity the ambience brought. Business seemed unusual, as women in colourful ‘lesos’ [colourful shawls worn by women] sat in small groups engaging in deep conversations. “This is a sign of a grand event about to take place. We call it Ada, which is basi...

“The conventional view serves to protect us from the painful job of thinking,” John Kenneth Galbraith The rain had fallen, but drained instantly through the deep sands, leaving the substrate completely devoid of moisture. This reflected Keeya’s soul as she watched the night creeping in. She watched the stars and felt as if she was observing the dunes. She thought of herself as a drop in the ocean, in the world of unknown mysteries. Not only that, but she was devoid of tears and the images of her brother deluged her mind. She was born to Naledi and Mmusi, who lived within the Tswana community. Kenosi was her elder brother and Ngaka was the last born of the family. Their family struggles were not different from those of any other African family. Patriarchal setup, misogynist subscription and powerful traditions described their family. This gave her brother’s enough reason to gravitate towards phylogeny, as she dreamt of a more liberated family of her own. Her mother was broken in all way...