In April I had met Valerie Kabov during the Art & Dialogue course in Paris. I had lived in Harare in 1994, she is living in Harare now and runs the First floor gallery space in Harare. In May we met again, briefly, in Amsterdam, to discuss an exhibition. Valerie had already made contacts with the Mondriaan foundation in Amsterdam for funding.
Harare, the rain season has started, I had arrived the night before. During my first walk in the city my eyes would well op with tears. 18 years is a long time to be away, and my sight triggered by so many memories left my brain scrambling to find the right emotions. It is like a dream and not. The past firmly rooted in my memories has to come to terms. The streets and buildings have changed. The songs of the birds seem to be the same. The cell phones and the air time is new. The smell of wax on the floor is old, the cream doughnuts seem to be larger. The street boys that were 10 years old should now be 28.