I’ve always considered myself a little nuts. I think most doctors are in some way.
Sometimes in the early hours of morning when a sliver of sun begins to dapple the sky with light, I find myself at the waters edge. There in the half light, I take off my (sometimes) polished business shoes and squish my toes in the sand, waiting for the foaming lips of the ocean to kiss me once again.
I remember a little green eyed girl walking past me one day when she suddenly exclaimed “Look Mummy! There he is! Its the man who sings to the ocean!’
I’ve played many roles in my life. Doctor, Brother, Musician, NGO director. But at the heart of things, I’m the man who sings to the ocean.
I love the world.
Perhaps not in gooey, sugar coated ways. I love the world the way little Sibusiso does as he plays on his swing made of rags in a forgotten corner of Swaziland. I love the world the way my friend Dr. Steve Muhudhia does as he treats dusty children in the slums of Nairobi, or the way my hero and supervisor of our Swazi team at Possible Dreams International, Anna Zwane does as she daily tends those with terminal AIDS in their huts made of mud and stick.
I love lines and wrinkles as much as supple skin, black as much as white. I love dreamers and pragmatists, gay and straight, Christian, Muslim, Pagan and Atheist. I love humanity in all its delicious complexity and woundedness.
I love the possibilities that dwell in the midst of adversity, the hope that whispers in the forgotten and broken places.
These are my stories.
I hope that within them, you will find something worthwhile.