Even though all my beloved tasks were fully aligned with my goals and rooted in flipping the system, I was still very much operating within the confines of the capitalistic narrative…

Or perhaps, it was that I was drowning, and have now finally taken a big gasp of fresh, life-giving breath.

If water is continuously transforming, this means that the water that lives within us has travelled this planet for billions of years. It may once have been an Inuit’s igloo, a dinosaur’s blood, the saliva of a jaguar, a grandmother’s tear or the sweat of your favourite sports star.

Belonging breaks down the barriers, shattering the illusion of separation that is exceedingly ever present to the human eye.

“Power to the people…” I started again, and our ocean choir, made up of hundreds of gallant kayakers, echoed back my favourite rebel tune. As we floated nearby the world’s largest and busiest coal port, those of us who’d chosen not to risk arrest showed solidarity with our brave comrades…

So, nowadays we are burnt out, lacking the capacity to meaningfully engage and have been condemned to believe that we’re intrinsically flawed. How can we expect to effectively contribute to society under these conditions?

Then the reality check knocked me on the head. I myself had generated plastic since being here and it was quietly being dealt with in one of those 3 ways by the family. Shit.

There I was, encircled by 50 zealous children, clearing a few feet above them, in all my whiteness, reading about Jesus, Mary and Lazarus.

I am free falling, deep into a pit of despair. What the fuck have we done? And this time I don’t just mean what has the white man done to Africa but what has man done to itself?

I’ve seen some shit in my life…I’ve seen poor. But this bus took the cake for the worst condition I’ve ever seen.