Sinjonjo is the pseudonym of the author born in the late nineteen fifties of Franco-Germanic-Mauritian parents. Raised on isolated sugar plantations, from the Zambezi valley inhabited by the two toed Vadoma tribe, the Kafue valley of the Baila people, and the Chewa of the Shire valley.
Schooled in the conservative private schools of Rhodesia and Malawi, later on emigrating to liberal Sweden via punk-age England, and a revolutionary Spain emerging from the Franco era.
Personal tales, from traversing the Sahara into corrupt Nigeria, and running trucks in the savagery of Mobutu’s Zaire. Diving for sea-cucumber in post-war Mozambique and Somalia in the throws of Chaos, he is forced to come to terms with, and adapt, to the endemic corruption that saturates the African continent.
Using this accrued knowledge he joins the humanitarian aid bandwagon, assisting in emergencies and disasters worldwide. From East Timor, newly pillaged, three years in Liberia during Charles Taylor's Regime, to the Congolese civil wars and Sri Lankan Tamil Tigers insurgency, he lived and interacted with both sides of the different conflicts.
The author is kidnapped by Somalis, held hostage by Congolese cannibals, and targeted by Sinhalese missiles. He is threatened at gunpoint by Liberian rebels, and jailed by corrupt officials but survives only through an intricate knowledge, gained by personal experience, of the individual customs and traditions of the differing tribes and factions with whom he lived and worked.
His rapid rise within the aid world allowed him a credible insight to the waste, corruption and
misappropriated public funds within the industry which he describes using a mixture of humor, passion and occasional suggested solutions.
An incredible story of determination, good luck and resilience based on fact mixed with occasional fiction used in trying to hide his identity.
The author presents his adventures using humor, misery and passion, attempting to open a discussion, that searches for solutions to the endemic corruption within humanitarian aid and more importantly, within African politics.
A women named Nickey Turner who was known to her family as a druggy and a lier. Has a tragic accident happen to one of her bestfriends. She tries to go to her older brother and he doesn't believe a word she says. So she uses force to save her friend's life and in the end. She makes a huge decision that saved her own life as well
Okay so, I have decided to make a sort of blog. I really do not know where these things are written and since I spend most of my time here other than doing other things, actually I don't spend a lot of time on booksie. Anyway...I just wanted to write a bit about myself and things that go on basically. I don't expect a lot of people to read this, it's just a way to vent a bit. Rant more like it but whatever. :)
I am nothing. I will always be nothing. I have no future. I have no use. I am pathetic. I am useless. I am a terrible person. I am a whore. I am ugly. I am stupid. I am a mistake. I am not loved. I am not wanted.
To me, this is a true confession. Why? I have never told anyone what happened that night. I was young, I was ashamed, and I was scared people would think that it was my fault. As the years went on, I buried it deep inside and tried to never think of it.
I will try add more of the story each day.
When Someone asked what I thank the worst pain is, I say being in love. I fell in love once just because this guy seamed like he cared about me, when I was just about to give up on everything I had. He help me see that maybe someone could actually care about me, but then he stabbed me in the back, leafed me in his past and didn't care if I even died, just like everyone else. This is why I hate falling in love just because of him, and it hurts so much.