Nursing. Africa. Anthropology. Literature. Northern England.
It’s Friday morning - so the beginning of the Islamic week-end. The streets of Algiers are empty, and the architecture is mine to explore. But first, I need breakfast. Here the city’s repose is not on my side. Everything is closed, even along the capital’s historic shopping street: Rue Didouche Mourad. As I begin to... Continue Reading →
It is dark when I wake up. The hillside twinkles between navy sea and sky. Under my window, traffic flows paint the beginnings of day. A single crane on the horizon symbolises the building of this modern Algerian city. I take my breakfast facing the the coastline as the natural pastels of morning develop beyond... Continue Reading →
Mamadou looks up from the green metal floor of the deck. ‘I was the only one there’, he says. ‘My mother went out for five minutes to buy some charcoal to cook with. She asked me to make nana breakfast. Whilst I was boiling the water, nana died. I found her, still and cold. I... Continue Reading →
Truth is stranger than fiction. Some of what I write in future posts will be fictionalised, because to describe it in the purely factual sense of truth would be to betray those whose little white lies and private matters have important purpose in supporting the necessary machineries of life. Also because sometimes fiction can convey... Continue Reading →
