“It’s… so sad,” she mumbled as she motioned to him to follow her…
Day #6 I woke up and decided to go to the park near home. At the entrance I met her. “Arrgh!” I wanted to be alone today. A family of monkeys was playing in the canopy I like. I decided to sit on the dewy grass. I like how the water soaks up one’s clothes. […]
Improving the learning of programming
A skyline that is usually dominated by the distinctive volcanic outline of Nyiragongo, whose active crater often belches out smoke by day and glows ominously at night.
I saw that of all the African cultural practices, only music, dance and religion – immaterial arts – were preserved and reinvested with the power to bring people together.
With the wedding party gone, the expansive air on top of us felt radiant; like it was still singing songs of love. The pillows that the bride and groom knelt on stared back…
Here I am, seated next to a Burundian who is new on this route and only knows where he is getting off, a bus that is really moving, an undecided battle between the rain and sunshine outside, and a racing heart…
Her Kinyarwanda is musical; this I hear as she calls out for the 7-month old crocodile at the backyard pond, almost like a girl playing with a doll.
Its spire rises above almost all else. Perched atop one of its approaching hills, the spire is a landmark that one would hardly miss from most areas surrounding the main road into Muhanga.
He speaks Kinyarwanda, Kiswahili and English to me; all at different times. He prods asking why I’m interested in Rebero and other follow up questions to his reflexive statement, “You are not allowed here.”