It’s currently 1:27am on the morning of Saturday, 24 May. I’ve decided to stay up all night tonight, as I have my calls in the morning and I don’t trust myself to wake up easily if I go to sleep after 4:00am, which is what would inevitably happen.
The last two weeks on the phones have been amazing. I can’t express how much I love doing it. When I first started, I struggled a bit with what to say to each client, but now the conversations have been full and long. Last week I actually went overtime a little bit, which I have to watch, because people expect calls at certain times, so as a caller, I have to keep up.
I’m sort of in this weird pocket of time at the moment. I’m not technically doing anything. I’m waiting for TAFE and Uni to start in July, when I’ll be very busy.
On Thursday nights I have my tutor, Alexander, who is teaching me 3D modelling using a program called Maya. I love doing this too — it’s a bit of an introduction into the uni degree I’ll be studying, the Bachelor of Visual Effects. Alexander and I meet online, and now that I have this whole new computer setup with three monitors, it’s really easy to have an effective 3D modelling lesson.
The last time I wrote on here, I talked about a course I had just started at the WEA called Big Questions and Great Thinkers. I’ve since been to two more classes, and I’ve found each to be extremely interesting.
In many ways, I don’t like academics or academia — mainly because they and it can be so pretentious. But since I’ve been doing this course, I’ve found myself sitting around thinking, “What does it all mean?”
I thought the lecturer was a professor at one of the unis — he could be, he literally knows everything and is a subject matter expert. But in the second lesson, he went through a bit of his own history. He was actually a TESOL teacher, and I think he’s back at uni now or has some affiliation with it. He’s a man of a certain vintage, so I’m not sure if he’s retired, but it would be criminal of him not to share his knowledge.
This is what I love about the WEA — they have an incredible diversity of lecturers.
During the second week, we went deeper into philosophy, and it was fascinating to explore Eastern and Western lines of thought. One thing the lecturer talked about was Jainism.
Another thing I found interesting about Eastern religions was the idea some of them have that we are all collectively part of the same soul or energy. Somehow I think that's what I believe with my interest in Live Aid and the Red Cross.
The week just past touched on metaphysics, and also went into logic a little bit. I’m not going to lie — he lost me somewhere along the line. It was so complicated. But I was just sitting there thinking, I wish I could engage in a conversation with someone about this kind of thing.
I briefly did the math on how long it would take me to do an undergraduate degree in Arts majoring in Philosophy, then a Master’s, and a PhD — and then I remembered: I hate elitist academic snobs! I also remembered that I’ve been down that path with literally every profession known to man, and I decided to stick with Design and Visual Effects.
We talked about why good people suffer and bad people prosper, and all those sorts of questions — and then, just like that, the third week was over!
Below you can see a photo I took from the back of the class and another shot of one of the signs on the wall at the WEA, and a random trolley.
Maiki is a 42-year-old Tanzanian man and was the best friend of my now-deceased former boyfriend, Kijanda, whom I met while living in Tanzania. Maiki and I speak multiple times a day, and during a period of my life when I literally had no one, he was there for me. He’s someone I place incredibly high value on.
I think people assume I have a lot of money — I don’t. But a couple of years ago, I came into a little bit. I gave most of it to my mother, but seeing as I don’t have any children, I asked Maiki if he would like me to pay for his Master’s degree — and so I did.
At the time, he was a police officer and had been for nearly 20 years. He hated it. He had dreams of starting his own business or working in sports administration — he’s a massive soccer fan. I had a bit more money, so I asked him if he would like me to pay for his PhD. He didn’t want to accept it at first, but eventually, he did. He’s doing it now and will finish at the end of next year.
Along with the degree, I gave him a little bit of money to live on. And while this hasn’t exactly been cheap, the cost of education and living in Tanzania is probably about 100% less than it is here, so it hasn’t cost me an enormous amount.
My mum asked me if I regretted doing that, and I said no. As I’ve said, I don’t have children — and to know that I’ve contributed in some way to someone achieving their dreams? That makes me feel good.
There’s nothing romantic between Maiki and me — I know that probably sounds weird. When I visited him in 2019, we did kiss… but then we just looked at each other and went, “Nah,” and laughed. We’re just like family. He is my family. And I’m so grateful that I have a true friend in this world.
We have a goal of climbing Mt Kilimanjaro together — something I want to do in the next few years.
A few weeks ago, Maiki called me and he sounded strange on the phone. I asked him if something was wrong, and at first he said no — but then he just started bawling his eyes out. I kept asking what was going on, and he told me he’d have to call me back.
He calmed down and called me back later. That’s when he told me that his estranged wife had had his water cut off. It probably sounds like nothing to someone living in a Western country — and I’ll admit, I didn’t realise at first just how big a deal it was. But he was so upset, because something like twelve people rely on that water supply.
Where he lives — and where I spent time in Tanzania — in Arusha, it’s not the image most people have when they picture a so-called "third world" country. There are houses, buildings, infrastructure — maybe not as many roads — but it’s a living, breathing city. And yet, the water… the water is life. It’s essential. Twelve people who drink, bathe, wash, and water - their lives depend on that tap.
Maiki was devastated. His wife, trying to be nasty, had orchestrated it. He wasn’t asking for money — he never does — he was just overwhelmed by the weight of the situation and the bureaucracy that left an entire group without something so basic.
I felt so bad for him. And honestly, I was shocked. Maiki is a very masculine man. Not proud in a toxic way, just grounded. But hearing him cry like that… it surprised me. It really made me think about how much we take for granted over here. That’s something I’ve learned again and again through my friendship with him: that poverty exists, and it’s brutal in ways most of us never even see. And that I’ve got to be one of the luckiest people in the world to have grown up with such privilege.
He got the water situation sorted a few days later. I think he just needed to let it out. To be heard.
Around four years ago, before Maiki started his PhD, he was looking for a job at the UN. He asked me for advice, and I said the first thing he should do was volunteer. I don’t think someone should volunteer just to get a job — you should volunteer to help out — but I also knew that, being in Tanzania and aiming for the UN, there was so much he could do to gain experience.
As I’ve mentioned before, Maiki is a fanatical soccer fan. So he went to an orphanage and offered to coach the kids in soccer. I thought that was a magnificent idea.
He’s been going there ever since. Every Saturday, he spends about seven hours with the kids. He even brought in two other volunteers to help out. Maiki started a team, and they now play matches against other orphanages and youth teams — they’ve built a whole little competition. He coaches both boys and girls, and he’s become a much-loved part of the orphanage community.
I do what I can for the orphanage too. Every Christmas, I send money so they can have a Christmas lunch and buy each of the 100 or so children a small toy. I also bought them a computer — which got stolen — so I bought another one because, honestly, I just thought that was too sad.
I’m not telling you these things because I think they make me a good person. I’m telling you because it comes back to that thing about not having children. I don’t even know these kids — not personally — but I know they have no one. And in a way, neither do I. So I try to do what I can.
The other day, Maiki called me when he was meant to be at soccer training. He said he had something to tell me. I asked what it was, and he told me the children at the orphanage were only eating one meal a day — and that the money for food was going to run out completely in two days.
I couldn’t believe it.
The orphanage has never asked me for anything before, but I knew I couldn’t let them starve. I didn’t really have the money this time, but I had some put aside to do a short course at Sotheby’s Institute of Art. I decided to send that money to the orphanage instead.
Before I sent it, I told Mum what was going on. I told her the kids only had two days’ worth of food left. She said she would send $1000 USD, just like I was going to.
I told Maiki, and I asked him to make sure they knew that we can’t send money all the time — but in this instance, we really wanted to help. I sent the money. Maiki spoke to the priest who looks after the orphanage, and he said the donation would be enough to feed the children for two months. They’d have more funding by then.
I also found out that the orphanage isn’t Catholic, but it’s funded by a group of Catholic people. Which I think is kind of beautiful.
I also didn’t tell you about the money for the food for the orphanage to make myself look good to you, my anonymous reader.
I told you because Israel blocked aid, food and medical supplies, from entering Gaza for over two months. They’ve only just now started to allow it to trickle in. And I just… I cannot fathom it.
I can’t fathom how any peaceful nation or person, for that matter, could fucking stand by and see women, children, anyone, starving to death, and not think about what they can do, right here, right now, to help them.
