What Has Changed in 17 Years (Tanzania 1)

Returning to Africa After 17 Years

From 4th to 21st October, I spent two and a half weeks in Tanzania. In the coming posts, I'd like to share some reflections - things I felt, thought about, and did while I was there.

It had been, as far as I can remember, 17 years since I last set foot on the African continent - not since leaving Eritrea, my final posting there.

Although I had worked in several African countries over roughly four years, I had never been to Tanzania before.

Somehow, I had always pictured it as a gentle, calm, yet grounded country - in a way similar to Zambia, where I once lived, but with a stronger, more radiant sun and a sense of steady confidence.

Where did that image come from, I wonder?

I don't recall ever working closely with Tanzanian colleagues, so perhaps it was shaped by stories from others - people who had worked in Tanzania or had Tanzanian partners.

In this first post, I'd like to reflect on how things have changed between 17 years ago, when I left Africa, and now.

From Being in “Transition” To Being a “Senior”

Seventeen years ago, I was 38. I had been working with the UN for about ten years - mid-career, somewhere in that "transitional" phase.

Now, at 55, it has been four full years since I left international organisations - the very path that first brought me to Africa. I've since built a professional life in coaching and facilitation, and I'm in my fifth year as a university lecturer.

I truly feel I've become a "senior".

That word can mean many things, but to me it means having at least a sense - not complete, but grounded - of what I can offer to this world, and moving forward, one step at a time, with that understanding.

Of course, I still have doubts and worries, but there's a calmness that's different from those transitional years.

From “Alone” to Being a Mother

Back when I was working in Africa, I was truly alone.

I lived quietly in places near the heart of the continent, where there were hardly any foreigners, let alone Japanese. I did have a boyfriend at some points, but even beyond that, there was a deep, existential sense of "being alone".

When I started my first blog, the phrase

My Little Corner of the World 

came to me intuitively - it captured that quiet loneliness so well.

Realising that seventeen years have passed since I last left the continent, it feels like a long time, but then again, that woman who once lived alone now has a daughter who is almost 15 - so it makes sense.

Becoming a mother - it may sound obvious, but it was a profound transformation of identity. Among all the changes of these 17 years, this has been perhaps among the greatest.

Laying Down Roots

When I started working for the UN, I once told a close friend, “It feels good to be rootless.”

We both loved Billy Joel, and I remember writing to her that his song My Life expressed exactly how I felt then.

Moving from one place to another without putting down roots — like Snufkin from Moomin — that seemed romantic, even admirable.

But eventually, I grew tired of rebooting my life every few years, leaving behind homes, friendships, and communities.

When my daughter came along and approached school age, that feeling only deepened. Nine years ago, I decided to settle in the Netherlands.

For the first time in my life, I bought a home — not in my native country, but here — and consciously chose to plant roots. It has been nine years since.

A Sense of Connection At All Times

Seventeen years ago, mobile phones that could send simple text messages already existed, but internet access was limited to office computers. I used to write blog posts offline and upload them after work or on weekends. Even then, the internet connection often failed.

Today, we can be connected anytime, anywhere, through our smartphone. Instantly sharing messages and images with family and friends on the other side of the world - through social media or apps like LINE and WhatsApp - was once unimaginable.

Writing this now, I realise this may be the single biggest change of all for me.

There were times when the loneliness of living and working far from loved ones - the sense of being "cut off from the world” - felt almost unbearable. That was when I was working in remote parts of Africa - the time I began writing My Little Corner of the World.

Writing that blog helped me keep emotional balance; only a few close friends even knew it existed. Comments would come a few days later - there was none of the instant feedback we take for granted today.

Looking back, I found it astonishing that even in a Tanzanian village this time, I could pull out my smartphone, instantly share what was happening around me with my family, and receive their replies right away - it truly felt like living in a different era.

Now then, in my next post, I’d like to write about what I went to Tanzania for.