In the midst of chaos, kindness exists my son

DAR ES SALAAM: DEAR nephew Milambo,

I greet you warmly, my dear nephew, and I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits back home in our beloved village of Ukumbisiganga.

As I sit down to put these thoughts into words, my heart feels both heavy with longing and full of gratitude for the bond we share despite the distance between us. First and foremost, I pray that you, together with the entire family and all our people in the village, are doing well under the protection and watchful eyes of our Nyamwezi ancestors.

May the spirits of those who came before us continue to guide and shield you from harm. I trust that the mighty Chief Mirambo himself still stands as a symbol of strength and unity among you, and that the gods of our land, including Limatunda and Liwelelo, continue to bless your days with peace, wisdom and prosperity.

There is a kind of comfort that only our traditions can give, and I often find myself thinking about how fortunate you are to still live so close to that heritage. Life here in the confused city, as you can imagine, is very different. It is a city that never seems to rest, a place full of noise, movement, and endless confusion.

My dear son, in this city, every day brings its own challenges, and sometimes it feels like the city itself has a mind of its own. Despite all this, I want you to know that we are doing well. The traffic in this city has become something else entirely my dear boy.

As I always tell you, what used to be a simple journey from one place to another has turned into a test of patience and endurance. The roads are always packed with cars, buses, motorcycles and people trying to move in every direction at once.

Every day, we find ourselves stuck in long lines of vehicles, surrounded by the sound of honking horns and the frustration of drivers who are just as tired as we are. It is exhausting, my dear nephew, and sometimes I miss the quiet paths of our village where one can walk freely without all this chaos. And then there is the heat. My dear son, the heat in this city is relentless.

It presses down on you from morning until night, making even the simplest tasks feel like a burden. Some days, it feels as though the sun has decided to settle right above Dar es Salaam and refuse to move. We do what we can to stay cool, but it is not always easy.

Even at night, the air can feel heavy and sleep does not come as easily as it does back home where the breeze carries the scent of the land. Despite all this, I want to reassure you that we are fine.

Your aunt sends you her warm greetings and asks me to tell you that she often thinks about the village and the peaceful life there. Your little sister Neema is also doing well. My dear nephew, recently, the rains have been causing a great deal of trouble in this city. Instead of bringing relief from the heat, they have created new problems.

The drainage system here is poor and when it rains, the water has nowhere to go. Streets quickly fill up, turning into streams and sometimes even rivers. It is a strange and troubling sight my dear son, cars trying to move through water that reaches their wheels, people wading through flooded roads and the entire city struggling to cope with something that should be a blessing.

My dear nephew, let me tell you about something that happened just a few days ago, an incident that reminded me that even in a place as chaotic as this, kindness still exists. Your aunt was driving us through one of the flooded roads after a heavy downpour.

The rain had been falling so hard that the road was completely covered in water, making it impossible to see what lay beneath. The water was flowing like an angry river, carrying debris and making the road treacherous.

As she carefully tried to navigate through the water, the car suddenly dipped and got stuck. We later realised that it had entered a ditch that was completely hidden beneath the floodwater. The vehicle would not move no matter how much we tried.

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The engine struggled, the wheels spun, but we were trapped. To make matters worse, the water around the car continued to rise. It was a frightening moment, my dear son. For a while, we did not know what to do. Getting out of the car was not an option at first because the water outside was already high and still rising.

We sat there, watching the situation worsen, feeling helpless and unsure of what would happen next. My dear nephew, it is in moments like those that one truly understands how vulnerable we can be. But just when things seemed most difficult, help came in a way that restored our faith in humanity. Several young men appeared, as if sent by fate itself.

Without hesitation, they approached the car and assessed the situation. They did not ask for anything, they simply stepped in to help. Working together, they pushed the car with great effort, encouraging one another as they struggled against the force of the water.

After several attempts, they managed to free the car from the ditch and guide it to safer ground. It was a moment of great relief for us my son. We thanked them sincerely, though words did not feel like enough to express our gratitude. In a city that often feels cold and indifferent, their actions stood out like a light in the darkness.

From that incident, I came to realise that there are still decent and kind young men in this city. Despite all the challenges and the fast-paced life that often makes people forget about one another, there are still those who are willing to stop and help a stranger in need. It gave me hope, my dear nephew, and reminded me of the values we were taught growing up, values of compassion, unity and helping one another without expecting anything in return.

My dear son, I hope that you continue to grow strong and wise, guided by the teachings of our elders and the traditions of our people. Never forget where you come from, my son, for it is our roots that give us strength no matter where life takes us. Please greet everyone at home on my behalf. Tell them that we miss them dearly and that we carry them in our hearts every day.

One day, we shall return and sit together again under the familiar skies of Ukumbisiganga, sharing stories and laughter as we used to. Until then, take care of yourself and remain under the protection of our ancestors.