There are trips which you cannot come back, are the most important ones, the ones that change you, those after it is no longer the same.
After it's different, you're different.
And you're going to tell you that the trips more often, smiling, his eyes wet with emotion.
After trips as well, you're better.

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Imagine a place where the sky does not overlook you, it passes through you.
You don't simply breathe the...

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The first time I arrived in Kenya was, as is the case for so many other Italians, on...

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The emails from our readers with "Africa Sickness," which we group and publish every Wednesday in...

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I lost Kenya, and with it I may have lost my innocence and, as Renato Zero sings, the "best years...

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The column dedicated to "Africa-sickness," that is, the jumble of feelings evoked by coming and going...

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Why do I love Kenya and want to live there?
I have always...

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Our space dedicated to readers who have decided or would like to move to Kenya, tell their experience and give their opinion continues. Today it is Ella's turn.

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Hello, I am an Italian from the province of Bologna, I am forty-nine years old and separated.
I have a...

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Today it is exactly one year since I left "my" Africa.
I did...

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I don't want to influence anyone even if in these moments I seem to be a Jehovah's Witness... but...

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Do you know the difference between "vacation" and "trip"?
Until two...

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I don't think I understand everything about this place after only fifteen days of vacation between savannah and ...

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Sometimes I think that talking about "Mal d'Afrique" is an offence to all those people who...

I came to Kenya for the first time because my dearest friend was there 6 times and when he came back he made me...

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It was a day in November.
The cold was biting on the outskirts, the car once again faced the main road and took me to the office.
Beside me, the world was running silent, gray and insensitive.
I already had the sky, the green in the heart of Africa.
The two holidays that I had done in February and in August they had changed me forever the soul.

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Many years have passed since that February, and yes, February is my month, the month in...

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This space is dedicated to all the people who had to do with Kenya, on holiday, for job, guests of a friend, for voluntary service or by any other voluntary or unintentional chances, and who experienced so much the magic of this Country that they got affected by the sweetest "disease" existing in nature, that range of sensations, smells and feelings to which we can't give a precise name and which we simply call "mal d'Afrique".  
It's hard to explain a falling in love using words, it's easy to fall in the commonplaces, as well as the fear of trapping free and sublime thoughts in the cage of the written word. 
But among us, among "sick persons", we can do it. 
Herebelow anyone can leave the proof of his/her personal "mal d'Afrique" and narrate the consequences. 

please send an e-mail to:
info@malindikenya.net

send an e-mail to: info@malindikenya.net

What never abandons you is the sense of Africa... that you have always had... and you find again... and it...

Much we have been told and just as we read about Africa before leaving for the first time.
On one side of the table, who served us plates filled with anxiety and fear: the most dangerous malaria, carried by a special mosquito who spends his life looking for the wazungu (white men, ed) arriving for the first time on the African continent, for which is absolutely necessary stuffing of pastiglioni for the duration of the trip and over despite the coverage is not 100%.
The terrorists of Al-Shabaab, which diligently await you at the gate as you try to figure out what's inside the Kenyan Samosa sipping your coffee you hoped was a Lavazza espresso, despite the statistics say that the odds of being in the middle of a attack are 1: 25m (being hit by lightning 1: 817mila ..): virtually find themselves in Africa during a thunderstorm is certain death.

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Imagine a space where sky does not dominate you
it runs through you
where you don't breathe air, you ...

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Africa.
Inexplicable attraction has always made me believe that sooner or later we'd be.
Africa, the dark continent.
The third world, the savannah, the poor land where children are dying of hunger and thirst.
I read so much, I documented, I tried to understand what represents the African magic and the famous nostalgia for Africa.
I left in a critical moment, a few days in Paris by the attack and threats Isis towards the West and Europe always present.
I left full of emotions and hopes.

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What could i still expect from life after a failed marriage? 
After seeing my two children to fly away happily to their lives, one in Australia to pursue a career as a construction engineer in Italy would have been impossible, and the other in England to do the bartender, waiting for an opportunity to open a place of her own.
Here I am, 61 years old, to dream of a different future than that age and concerns they would like to write on my skin and in my heart.
It 'took was a holiday, two weeks with a former colleague became my best friend, to understand that I had to take over my life for a while' time.

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As soon as the aircraft doors open and you climb down the steps until touching the african land, in Mombasa, you inevitably feel the magic. 
The air seems sweeter, you smell something unknown, maybe of faraway lands and, for sure, the heavenly light is the thing which mostly attracts you.
It is in that very moment that "mal d'Afrique" starts building its nest into yourself, like a virus. You don't realize that immediately because this ancient place enters slowly until becoming a crazy love you will never forget.

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My mal d'Afrique is not nostalgia
it is thirst
thirst for human energy
voices
smells so familiar, in the morning when I wake up, at the end of a dream taking me out there ...
thirst for strong hands taking mine along the way,
thirst for never feeling myself alone;
for smiles,

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Today, at school i had to prepare a Powerpoint presentation on Kenya.
I looked through my photo archive, realizing that have already been almost three years since my goodbye and that I miss. Much.
I miss the sunburn at the foot playing barefoot, lunches to school under the blazing sun cheered by a paninazzo Pappa and Chakula, dip in the pool just back from school, the tuktuk speeding on Lamu road like a Lamborghini, trips to Che Chale, Rai international that made you see just what she wanted

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Raining outside, it's raining really hard and it's cold.
I close my eyes and try to imagine the rain of Kenya.
I remember when we went to bike through the bush with sunglasses and raining and I was laughing, I was laughing so much.
I keep remembering, moments, moments, thoughts, everything that I have lived, all past experiences.
I walk on the white beach, the background of the sea waves and distant voices.
I smile again.
I stop to look at the horizon.
Breath.

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Today I decided to leave the land I love, and these lines are for you ....

Are hours that go down tears me, but chasing me emotions that I can not stop.
I can not understand their meaning, or maybe I will not. I cling for a moment to my beliefs sometimes culture and harmful.
In Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Nietzsche formulated the last hypothesis of eternal recurrence, the idea that the world process is cyclical and eternal,
superman yet life-affirming.

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The decision to take up residence in Mambrui came on the seventh day after my first visit to Africa. ...

I left my heart in Africa.
I put him under an acacia tree in the middle of the savannah.
Since I left I have not heard from him.
Every now and then, from here, I feel a scratch, as a raptor caught him.
Sometimes I feel a bite, like he's been bitten by a lion.

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I have been a diving instructor for several years and my passion for the sea and for travelling...

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Africa is love is passion, every return is a plunge to the heart, an emotion that is hard to describe, the feeling...