Do you have a Story to tell?
Perhaps a dangerous adventure or a life threatening situation away from home.
The 1 billion people of the world’s second largest/most populated continent reside in more than 50 countries throughout the region. Africa is a contrast of tropical rainforest and sandy deserts, massive urban centers and herds of savage animals and modern and ancient beliefs. There’s also a plethora of distinct cultures, religions, ethnicities and languages. Africa is unique in so many ways and always lives up to being the wildest continent on Earth.
After fourteen hours travelling on a mini bus from central Tripoli in Libya to Tunis followed by a seven hour train journey to the oasis town of Tozeur, I eventually reached Douz on another mini bus intending to make a desert trek deep into the Sahara.

I'd wanted to go to Libya for a while but had been put off by what had seemed to be mountains of red tape and the apparently prohibitive expense of having of having to sign up for an escorted group tour. After looking into it a bit more deeply, however, I discovered that it was possible to visit Libya for 48 hours without having to join an expensive package tour.I found that I could combine a longer trip to West Africa - where I could fly into Cotonou in Benin, and then fly home for Bamako in Mali - with a short break in Tripoli. The visa would cost me 90 Euros but there was no extra change for the stopover. As Afriqiyah was the cheapest option from London to West Africa, anyway, I thought I'd try and make it to Libya before all the crowds arrived.

I'm glad I never got to see him when he was alive. It was tough enough having to deal with his one hundred ninety pounds of dead weight all zipped up inside a sleeping bag. I didn't want to know what he looked like.

Africa has always fascinated me ever since I stumbled across a copy of Mungo Park’s ‘Travels in the Interior Districts of Africa’ when I first starting my teacher training back in 2008. It led me to accepting a job as in an independent primary school teaching the British curriculum to expat and local families in Nairobi, Kenya. Though Park’s book detailed his journey across West Africa, the mystic of Africa was a compelling reason for me to accept the job in the other side of the continent.

I am Mpho. This is my new name. I have a new identify, a new life, a new country. It is a dream fulfilled to be in Africa.

It’s a dark, empty, dirty room. As I enter I turn and notice a pile of blankets on the floor. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I realize it is a body. A frail, thin, sick looking young girl; her eyes are sunken, her skin is the colour of ash and her chest rises with great effort. She is laying on the ground, with dirty blankets over her and next to her is a bowl of rotten peaches. Her name is Mmami and she is dying from aids. During our visit, prayers of Gods blessing are spoken over her life. Prayers of healing and hope are sent to heaven with authority. I am challenged by this moment in time her suffering is slapping me in the face. Is their hope in such a hopeless situation?

I decided to visit South Africa for 3 months of football coaching, sun, drinking and fun (although I only signed up for the coaching, they were adamant at the introduction that we were only allowed to drink during the weekends).