I did it. I woke up one day and decided that I was tired of hearing myself complain about my life, and I checked out. Just like that, I was off. And that, to me, is the most significant step towards a new road, to mentally decide that life isn’t worth it if I have to wake up every morning, dreading to attend to a position that I have always wanted to have. And interact with constituents that I have always wanted to serve.

As I take in the beautiful sights of this vast wilderness in these dotted plains, I’m reminded that there are much bigger things to think about. Much bigger things to worry about than where my bread is buttered, as long as it is buttered alhamdulillah. Much bigger things to scream, cry and be joyous about. And much bigger roads to dream about.  I leave bittersweet, in grief for the friendships that I have made, and the bonds that I must break. And in anticipation of a joy that comes from one released of chains most strong, that of the most sublime and insidious of pessimism. Of ideas and attitudes that I was forced to confront. How I have grown in these times, between two loves, between two extremes. What profound lessons I have learnt.

How could I not miss talking to the Mzee Shaas* of this world who in the most starkness of lives still reminded me to have hope in humanity? Whom, when faced with strange faces and nothing guaranteed of tomorrows, still dared to offer me, the first time he ever met me, his only meal?  You wouldn’t believe his disappointment, when I dared decline ! And as he relayed his life’s explorations, of harvests gone south and children gone left, and a chief’s camp a lair of fear, he still had hope in the future. I was severely reminded of what blessings and privilege means, in this most unequal of societies. And of the prayer in gratitude. And the faith in my Lord, The Bestower of Honours, The Rewarder of Thankfulness, The Nourisher, who has shaded me and my family from burdens I can only imagine.

To cast myself in the wilderness and embark on a path that many have taken and lost, and few have taken and triumphed, is a challenge. But the thought of it makes my heart sing. It’s not the novelty, but the immense challenge of what life seems to be asking me. So you think you can do it? And I laugh in abandon, me? You wait and see me now.

And the thought that my 3 a.ms., that most faithful hour, my bosom friend, will be spent charting this new road is exciting beyond life. Is this what addicts seek? Because I feel drugged. And inspired to give a lecture in psychology-life, not substance abuse I would start. The thought of this new road makes me feel as if I’m floating in dreams. I feel alive, and it has been rare to breathe that this year. A year that I have felt stifled, and I have shown up. And I have felt disrespected, and I have stood up. And I have felt intimidated, and I have been brave, by the grace of Allah, The Greatest Name. But I have been so so tired.

And so as I embark on this road most rarely taken, I inhale and relive the words of the late Maya Angelou :

Maya Angelou, “Still I Rise” (1978)

And as I straddle the two extremes of deranged excitement and restrained expectations, I have no choice but to rely on my most faithful, constant friend. My lord, The Magnificent, The Generous, The Watchful One, The All-Comprehending One, The Satisfier of All Needs, The One and Only God. He has never disappointed me. Never.