Awaken to your Khwest…

Awaken to your Khwest…

Khewst is a life style philosophy with its roots in Africa, drawing inspiration from its rich cultural heritage, vibrant people and diverse landscapes…

Khwest is a celebration of the strides that we as Khwe – homosapiens – continue to take on a journey, that journey that began in Africa. A journey that seeks to change the world in pursuit of our individual conquests in life.

It is from such seed as this that the name ‘Khwest’ germinates. Sown by Khwe, nurtured by the conquest of man, and blossoming to Kwhest.

Khwest – the Africa journey begins again, this time determined to fulfill that age-old African dream to change the world in a new day and time.

(Khwe is a word in ‘Sekgalagadi’ language of the south of Botswana)

I found these paragraphs in a menu of a café bar in Gaborone, the capital of Botswana. These paragraphs gave new sense of my African XP, they complemented my understanding of what is happening inside me. They are part of these thousands of coincidences that are merging with my day-to-day life to give me signals, to post messages, to give meaning to my mornings, when I stare at myself at the mirror and ask: ‘what am I doing?’


This posting is for my experiences in South Africa, Botswana and Zimbabwe… where I discovered my Khwest.

After leaving Tanzania, I went to South Africa. I have been there before, in May this year. However the experiences were completely different. In my May trip, I was all the time in a Strategic Meeting defining the way of the organization for the incoming years. One week of planning and being practically locked in a house with a selected group of international young talent.

This time was different; the house wasn’t the same as weren’t the conditions. In this trip I got to know the rich part of Johannesburg, the Sandton and the mix of American with European dreams in a part of the city that also hosts Soweto. This time I had the chance to see that the world it is divided by borders that we – Khwes – create to feel safe, to run away from our fears. The rich and the poor, the black and the white, the muslim and the catholic… All divided by these imaginary lines.

I have been reading a lot about Africa during my trip, and I started to discover obvious things that aren’t so obvious. For me, the real picture of Africa is only beginning to come into focus. Over the past few weeks I have had the opportunity to see and interact with the continent from a perspective that was much broader and deeper than I had previously imagined. From the conversations that I remember myself having with many African young people, I believe that from Kenya to Zimbabwe, I have had the opportunity to get some pictures of Africa that few of these African young will ever get the chance to see. And this makes me sad.

Whether is was eating Ugali and drinking Tusker in Kenya or waiting for a public transportation that never arrived in Zimbabwe, I have had the opportunity to drink the beauty of Africa, and I have wished that I could put it in a bottle and share it with the rest of the world. Through it all, I have come to believe more than ever that the real African story is the one that I will never be able to tell or write in my blog about. It is a story that has to be lived and experienced.

However, now I want to share something I read about those ‘imaginary lines’ and that it did click in my brain giving no space for other thing more than for a further understanding of Africa’s today:

“The haphazard way in which colonial mapmakers carved up the continent, for instance, has had a tremendous impact on how the social and political landscape of the continent is currently defined. Totally disparate peoples, tribes with less in common than, say, the Dutch and the Italians, were simply thrown together in arbitrary political entities and told to choose governments.

The lack of cultural and linguistic affinity within the newly created nation-states prevented any real consensus from emerging in most of them. It should come as surprise to no one that tribalism quickly became the primary expression of identity as well as the driving force in politics throughout the continent.

(…) The groupings of people from different ethnic communities, all fighting for the same already-depleted resources, would later provoke conflict – leading to genocide (Rwanda) and political instability (Zimbabwe, Sierra Leone, Sudan, and Liberia)

(…) In time, this situation worsened as the post-independent structures duplicated colonial structures and created a breeding ground for corruption and ethically based political and economic alliances”.

So, if I have faced problems when living in my many different ‘homes’ sharing my room with a friend that can easily have been from Portugal or Canada, India or Macedonia, how can we pretend that this situation is not still having its repercussions in the current African reality? Why we, immerse in our cultures, do not understand Africa? Maybe because of lack of proper information? Who cares anyway, isn’t? Today I can properly say: I care.

Getting back to my story, South Africa new view showed me about the thriving business sector, the rich people and the huge gap between the rich and the poor. It also showed me about the ambition to create a bigger and prosperous nation, about the desire of being ‘Proudly South African’.

It is easy to let the external look consume you in the richest parts of Johannesburg. You unplug from the reality, you are not anymore in Africa, there are mixed people all around, the black, the white, the colour, the Indian, the Asian… Until you start to notice that they do share the same spaces, but rarely mix, until you start to notice that the white guy sits with the white guys, that the Indian girl is with her Indian boyfriend, that the black guys are laughing because of the joke made by other black pal. There is no mix; there is no real sharing… They managed to leave in peace by keeping the borders that once were in the cities, but now are in their minds. And this made me even sadder.

And then, full of sadness but weirdly full of satisfaction of being there, in such amazing nice and pretty city, I left to Botswana.

In Botswana ‘matatus’ are called ‘combis’. This was quite amazing for me since they are called in such way in Peru – I was living in Peru back in 1998. How come that they are called in the same way in two completely different parts of the world – not just the culture or language are different, but everything else. I remembered then the 'imaginary lines' and I smiled.

Botswana is a ‘rich’ country in Africa. Two thirds of the country are completely covered by the desert. The population is located in the south and south-east of the country. Their richness? Diamond mining that belongs to foreign corporations.

Gaborone – Gabs –, the capital is a city with nice one-floor buildings (most of them) and wide streets. The most beautiful and big university library that I have seen lately and loads of happy easy-going people.

Life is very laidback, you can definitely relax in Botswana if you don’t have a job like mine and just four days to make everything you are supposed to do. However they made my stay easy and enriching.

I stayed in a small rural village one hour outside Gabs. Everyday we traveled to Gabs and each trip represented for me a unique opportunity for self-discovery. My mind was blowing with the wind, my memories started to get to my reality more often and I tried to keep them away, but they just kept coming.

Botswana gave me the chance to go through my childhood days, remembering how much my reality was in those times as it was my life today in that small village; away from the ‘world’ being happy with the simple things of life that are provided even if you do not ask for them.

Botswana helped me to be aware of how much I have been changing, helped me to see this guys that I am today; traveled, a global citizen that speaks four languages, that writes his life in a ‘blog’, that talks about global thinking and local impact… A guy who feels it soul alone but believes is strong enough to keep walking. At the end of the day, just another guy. I discovered I am not more or less that anybody else, even if I try to convince myself of the opposite very often. I discovered that ‘my’ difference lays on the fact that I strive to keep a genuine smile in my soul and that lately is becoming easier and easier. And this is part of my personal quest in Africa, finding myself while seeing outside there, not to compare, not to criticize, just to see… And through those new adjusted eyes, see inside myself again, see myself with my own ‘new’ eyes.

From one day to the other, after rushing to get an air ticket to Harare and having problems again with my ‘maestro’ card, Botswana was left and I was in my plain to Zimbabwe.

Harare’s airport is small and fancy, very fancy. This amazed me, since I had been reading about the economic crisis of Zimbabwe.

Harare is a nice city. Big, with an awesome skyline. During the 90’s many new buildings were built. You cannot imagine a simple view that the country is in one of the worst crisis ever until you start to notice the ‘little’ details.

No traffic jam, no gasoline, long lines at the gas stations, and incredible long lines at every ATM in the city. The reasons? EU embargo. The currency is devaluating at such rate and the inflation is growing so fast that your money values nothing from one day to the next.

People walk on the streets counting big packs of bills that probably will not be more than few dollars. You need to take your money out of your saving account and buy stuff, whatever, food, etc, at least that is more valuable than money. You can also try to change it into dollars in the black market since the currency embargo doesn’t allow you to change it through the normal ways.


During training with the MC of Zimbabwe 

One day we bought a bottle of one liter of Coca Cola for 35.000 Zimb dollars, one day later we paid 70.000 in the same place. The hyperinflation is a menace that is just around the corner.
The whole situation remembered me my country Venezuela, when in November of 2002 we crossed through a similar process, the reasons were no so different, however the overall picture looks worst in Zimbabwe.


Here we are at the end of the meeting!!!


In the middle of all this external reality, people have to live their lives normally, accepting all this conditions as if they are part of a normal status of living in today’s society. The messages that come across the different sectors are so different and nobody seems to have the courage or the leadership to show a way into a lighter future. I hope AIESEC is nurturing that leadership.

Despite these conditions, the country is beautiful. Harare is covered by a carpet of flowers, in every street there are flowered trees. Pink, purple, red, orange, you pick the color, they have it, and they have them in big amounts. You literally walk on flowers, on those that have fallen from the trees. It is a disconcerting real metaphor which image had been burned in my pupils and which teachings have been written with gold in my soul.

You can walk on flowers even if you don’t have anything to eat tonight.

I withdraw money in one of the ‘two’ ATMs that accept my ‘maestro’ card. I withdraw the money to pay for a flight ticket back to Johannesburg. Before knowing that I cannot pay the ticket in Zimb dollars in South African airlines, before knowing that the price of 167 USD will increase to 670 USD if I pay in local currency, without knowing there is no way to get an e-ticket and without knowing I will not be able to change this money into any foreign currency.

I got a pre-paid ticket from my office in Rotterdam (thanks Petroula, again) and I had to spend the local currency. I bought Christmas presents for my family that I want to send to Venezuela later on. Awesome batiks and some handicrafts at extremely cheap prices since they forget to change the old process in the National Gallery of Art. Batiks with new prices were around 200 USD, I paid 10 USD for the same size and better quality. It seems that even in Africa that spell that we have in my country is true: ‘Old times were better, cheaper things with better quality!’.

In Zimbabwe I also met two young entrepreneurs. They started their business selling eggs. One day they went for eggs in the small village were their grandparents live and they were not able to find any. They started to distribute eggs until the competency became very strong and they decided to move on.

They opened a small store that was left completely empty after some thieves broke in. With the few savings they had left they decided to take a risk. They paid a trip to China, they arrived there without knowing anybody or anything, without knowing that in China most of the people don’t speak any English.

Today they are selling suits and ties, shirts and memory sticks, mp3 players and purses. Today they are registering their export-import enterprise to be able to provide their new customers, the bigger retail chains of fancy clothes in the country.

They started with eggs; the hen is now in their backyard. Who is still confused about the paradox? The egg was first!

They told me their story, I told them mine. They will be finishing their career at university very soon – Social Work – and they are looking for a traineeship in Macedonia, cool enough? I think it is a good deal. I think they deserve to be called AIESECers. I think they made their way through and they succeed. They deserve my admiration and all my love. Francis and Rejoice, thanks for helping me reconnect with who I believe I am. Thanks for helping me see in you two one the examples that I need to share in the rest of my ‘Khwest’ in Africa.

I think Zimbabwe deserves that I write more about their reality later on, I just hope not to forget to do so…

After a trip around the streets full of mansions in Harare, mansions that can easily fit in Beverly Hills (that are built appart of the rest of the town and divided from it by 'imaginary lines'), I finished my stay and I took my plain back to South Africa.

Arriving back to South Africa it was like arriving back home. I completely adore the team we have down there. They make me feel at home, a true home. With the rules at home for cleaning the house and cooking for everybody. Thanks guys for that.

Sometimes I felt like they were spoiling me, and I also felt I deserve it. Kind of a weird selfish feeling of which I don’t feel guilty at all.

I had meetings with very influential people, with many big companies, with NGOs, with media personalities, with a lot of potential supporters, but not with members. I regret that.

However those meetings let me look at Africa through the eyes of those who made decisions. And I wished they have the chance to experience what I had experienced so far; I wished they can make decisions through my experiences. It was a vague wish, a naïve one.

Everybody talk a lot, there are hundreds of conferences happening, people sit down to discuss the ‘future’. How many of them walk the talk? I don’t know, I am not in the position neither I have the intention to preach about it. I just ‘think’ – and I hope I have the right to – that if they were making that decisions through perspectives that are coming from the understanding of the realities from the realities themselves and not from behind a computer in a tenth floor of a nice carpeted building with an awesome view of the city, the reality of Africa should be a little better now. But it is not.

In my second stay in South Africa I had the chance to go to Montecasino. A small resembled Italian village covered by a high high high roof in which the ceiling has been painted like the sky (with clouds and everything) and it is a perfect summer afternoon even at 11 pm, or painted in black with loads of lights that make the perfect night sky even at 11 am. An Italian village inside this monstrous building that it is sooooo perfect that you don’t want to leave. The perfect place for the people that have the money to spend believing they will win something. You have to see their expressionless faces when pulling the bar at the coins machines. Another sign of the extremes in the world we live in. However, a perfect place to visit and discover what the magic of money can do, recreate an Italian village literally ‘inside’ a building.

I also made my choice for my holidays next year. After AfroXLDS in Cameroon I will fly to South Africa and will spend a week in Cape Town. I know there is a message for me there, in the mouth of a completely stranger. I will listen to it and I will smile.

In Johannesburg I dress up again. I got a new suit (the old one got burned when trying to iron it by myself). I hope the new suit will give me new opportunities to get money for the guys of Africa to make their projects come true. My mom taught me that if you want to be a winner you have to dress like one – the world have been shaped in this way and I don’t have the time to fight that reality and get what I want to give to Africa. Better I follow the rules and play my role properly. Maybe this is one of those prices you have to pay to make the things you want to make, I am paying it.

This posting has been loooooong, I hope you enjoyed it. I started explaining you the ‘Khwest’ and I want to finish it summarizing ‘my khwest’.

Awaken to MY Khwest…

Khewst is a life style philosophy with its roots in Africa, drawing inspiration from its rich cultural heritage, vibrant people and diverse landscapes…

Inspiration that I feel now in my veins, in my brain; inspiration that talks to me in weird ways, inspiration that I continuously listen to when watching through the window of a bus – matatu, dala dala, combi, etc – when greeting some new friend, when listening to stories, to excuses, to dreams…

Khwest is a celebration of the strides that we as Khwe – homosapiens – continue to take on a journey, that journey that began in Africa.

A celebration of my ‘maestro’ card challenges, of knowing that money sometimes is more an obstacle than a way through… A celebration of my fears of discovering that I am not foreign of racism, that I have been also breaking paradigms, prejudices, that I had freed myself of them. A celebration of being the minority, the representation of what is hated, of betrayal, of being bad because of the color of my skin, of ancestors that I didn’t meet and that I don’t care about. A celebration of finding my place where I do not belong and make myself belong here. A celebration of an African journey that is a tourism trip on my mindsets and perceptions, but a discovery trip in my reasons, values and beliefs.

A journey that seeks to change the world in pursuit of our individual conquests in life.

And through it recognize that yes, I am trying to change the world, and that yes, I need to conquer first my own space within myself to do so. I need to reign in my decisions and I need to be more conscious of what I do and the why I do it.

It is from such seed as this that the name ‘Khwest’ germinates. Sown by Khwe, nurtured by the conquest of man, and blossoming to Kwhest.

Sown by the understanding of who I am as human being, nurtured by my conquest on defining who Dey is as a person, and blossoming to the Dey that exists in this world because of other people – I do not exist without you all, thanks for giving me my existence.

Khwest – the Africa journey begins again, this time determined to fulfill that age-old African dream to change the world in a new day and time.

Khwest – my African journey continues in West Africa. And my determination to make things happening has become stronger. I don’t want to change Africa into what I want it to be. I want to support young people in Africa to transform Africa into the place they want to live in.

(Khwe is a word in ‘Sekgalagadi’ language of the south of Botswana)

(Khwe is a word that Dey uses to remember he is, before all, a human being; and that he doesn’t need to blame himself for everything. Life is too short to spend it blaming himself for things that are there, in his human nature)

Thanks for reading my Khwest,
Hope to see you soon,

Dey.