Outage

I had no electricity in my apartment and I thought it must be due to the meter expiring. I stepped out and from the whirring of generators, realised there was a block-wide outage. It was pointless going back home so I stopped for a chicken thigh and rice.

After finishing for the day I went for a workout and must have zoned out reflecting on Donald Trump’s arguably most racist move yet: inciting his supporters to chant ‘get her out’ in reference to Ilhar Oman, the Somalia-born Congresswoman. I realised I was grinding my teeth and sneering like a rabid dog, imagining a scenario where Donald walked near me at some sort of public event and I strangled him and spat on his bloated corpse.

Ho hum. This is the anger he incites.

The evening saw the arrival of my wonderful friend Emma who I met when we both lived in Cambodia. She’s travelling in the region and will be with me for a few days. A massive tonic to be sitting on my sofa late at night chatting and reminiscing.

Many of Maputo’s streets are named after past communist world leaders. Avenida Kim Il Sung may be the maddest of them all.