Our children

I have to admit that before I came to Tanzania, I had never wanted to have children.
As a matter of fact, I never wanted to get married either.

Now that I have been married for nearly 6 years and have a son of 20 months, I take a step back and ask myself what happened?

And the answer is, Africa happened!

I found so much love here, in the beauty of the country and my amazing husband and in the children without whom, Africa would only be half as heart-warming.

The children here come towards you here so fearlessly, so full of trust and curiosity - it melts your heart and makes you so much softer.

Children in Africa often grow up under difficult conditions, their parents struggling everyday to provide for them, yet they are always cheerful, running around playing with the simplest things like sand and sticks.

You do not need to encourage them to play or engage with their neighbours, they do so all by themselves and they watch and learn from their parents every day mimicking the chores they do.

They seem to grow up here so much quicker yet never losing their smiles and their playfulness.

From my earliest days here in Africa I have loved engaging with kids, finding they would pick me up even from the darkest mood and inspiring me to be a more open, kinder and softer person.

Here are some pictures of the amazing kids I live with these days.

My husband's cousin's daughter carrying her baby sister.

My husband's cousin herding our cattle. 

Our son carrying his favourite baby sheep

Some of the kids from our boma posing for the camera.

A love letter to Africa

I have never shared with you the story of how I came to stay in Tanzania - so here it is: 

I came here as a volunteer for a conservation NGO. I was meant to stay for a mere five months, but I knew even before I boarded the plane, that I would stay longer.

Our research crew at a camp close to Selous Game Reserve. 

It is hard to put into words how Africa puts a spell on you, how it draws you in, warm and welcoming and beautifully exotic and how it

touches your soul with a force that turns you into a completely different person.

During my earliest days in Tanzania: enjoying the view with my fellow volunteers.

And what is it that moves you so much? 

Is it the street vendor making a living selling fruits on the dusty streets of Dar es Salaam, who presses an orange into your hand just because she liked the way you smiled at her?

Is it the farmer you visit whose children only get one meal a day, but who insists on cooking a meal for you out of hospitality?

Is it the children who run up to you touching your hair and your skin amazed by the strangeness of it? 

Is it the women carrying their babies on their back, plowing fields in the searing sun with such strength and endurance? 

Is it the fact that nothing ever seems to work yet it always works out? 

Is it that you feel humbled by people who live in what we think of as povery, yet who complain less about their lives than we do in the First World? 

It is the strength, the warmth and the generosity of the people I have met here, that made me fall in love.

My husband and I when we met on Mafia Island. 

So when after a year of volunteering close to the Selous Game Reserve, I moved to Mafia Island and met a Masai warrior whose beauty confirmed that I had not seen anything yet, I had even more of a reason to stay.

 Eight years later I am still here and as in love with this beautiful continent as I have always been.

10 things you don't need when raising your child with the Masai

I have been living with the Masai for five years and 18 months ago I had my son.

Sometimes bringing him up out here in the bush seems difficult but when I think about it, I believe I am very lucky as certain things are so much easier out here in regards to raising children.

Here are ten things you won't need when raising your child with the Masai:

Nappies. Out here they are difficult to dispose of, as Tanzania does not have a               working waste disposal system in place. You don't need them though as Masai life       is lived out in the open. We just let the children do their business openly, cleaning       them up when need be.

Clean clothes: We are surrounded by sand, mud and dust around the clock, so           things are bound to get dirty. No one here minds a dirty child or messy clothes.

Baby carrier: African women are famous for carrying their babies on their backs.
They don't do this with a specially designed backpack (which you wouldn't find       here anyway) but with a kanga, a simple piece of fabric which has a multitude of       uses, from headwrap to sarong to baby carrier.

Pram: Roads are sandy, stoney and muddy. You would not get anywhere with a           pram, even a fancy off-road one. Here, when you want to take your child places,           you carry it.

My son playing with a baby goat.

Nanny: Masai live in huge extended family units. You will always find someone
willing to look after your baby for a while. They love children and they help you         out for free.

Highchair: Out here, when a baby is old enough to eat, you sit it on your lap and
feed it or sit it on the floor and let it get messy. After all, we don't have fancy             carpets here.

Car seat: The main means of transport here are motorbikes. If need be, you strapp your baby to your body and let yourself be driven by a reliable driver or, in my case, my husband.

Play groups: Children here play OUTSIDE. From dawn to dusk. And they play with anything available, sand, twigs, seeds. No need to take them somewhere fancy.

Cot: Masai babies sleep in their mother's bed from the day they are born. So has           mine. I love watching his sleeping face in the morning and holding him close.

Wet wipes: The Masai use soft leaves from a tree they call Olmaroroi to wipe baby bottoms. We call it toilet paper tree.

For the love of cows

The native African cattle (Bos taurus africanus), also called the 'Sanga' cattle, was originally humpless. Interbreeding with Zebu (humped) cattle imported from Asia, created the modern intermediate African breed.

The hump serves as fat reserve during long dry seasons these cattle have to endure.
They are resistant to extreme heat, humidity and certain diseases.

Different to European cattle, African cattle come in all sorts of colours and the Masai have a name for each single colour or pattern.

Here is a picture of two of our dominant bulls, having their fill of pumba (corn shells) and bean shells from our farm.

The colour of the bull on the left is called 'Ouasse' identifying the white marks he has on each side. The other one's is called 'Keri', for a mixture of white and any other colour in large patterns.

Dry season

It's that time of year again when the grass has dried and the cows grow hungry.
Last year's dry season saw the death of a dozen cattle.

We are preparing ourselves for the worst again by buying plenty of 'pumba', the swahili term for the corn dust produced by the mill when grinding corn. We feed this to the cattle when there is no more grass for them to feed on.

Cattle are everything to the Masai, they are their only form of income, their measurement of wealth, their pride. Losing even one cow is a huge loss.

Recent years have seen irregular rainfall patterns and drought, causing hunger for men as well as cattle.

Sadly, climate change and overpopulation affect us even out here in the bush.