I wrote The (un)making of Hunyango in August 2024, and at that time I did not know that it would grow and that the story would expand. Two years after, I am still a Hunyango. For most part, I had almost forgotten how difficult it feels to walk around like a Hunyango. I had accepted that survival meant keeping certain masks to myself. Until I met a group of people who made it easy to take the thick layers off.

Shared language. Shared cultures. Several shared understanding of our positionalities in the world. Shared humor. And a shared hope for our homes. In that moment, the masks peeled off. I was home.

Read the piece here.