Imposter Syndrome

Fancy Food

Imposter Syndrome is why I am certain that I will never change on the inside. We ate the meal you see above for dinner this week and I was like what happened to Eba that I grew up eating. The meal was nice but I found it too fancy for myself.

Give me Eba with Okro Soup any given day or when I am in Ghana Banku and Okro Stew and the plate will tell you a story of a meal well eaten with all the gusto a man can have.

Deep in my heart I realize that I am a farmer. I love to nurture growing things. Why events in my life would lead to me beating my ploughshare into a sword is something that I will never understand.

I prefer the simplicity of my former life now that its over. Yes I was broke and yes I was hungry sometimes. But it was simple. This new one is too fancy for me. I have to measure every word. No action goes unnoticed. Every gesture means something. There are no friends only allies.

Here I find that a man is not looked at for his worth but for his value to some kind of power play. Failing which he is treated as less than the dust of the earth. Left alone, all I would do would be teach like my mother and my grandfathers before me. No change agent gist or save the world palaver.

It is unfortunate that the powers that be never figured that out before I got to the point of no return. I have always refused to be a tool for anyone. With that refusal, all they would see would be a threat. They would never understand that all I wanted was to be left alone.

This is Truston Ailende. I am a member of the Zished Team and this is my 12th day in Kenya.

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