Tiny but Unstoppable
Kilimanjaro stripped me bare —
until all that remained was my soul,
dancing freely above the clouds,
on the roof of Africa.
P.S. Look at my shadow; it’s my inner child.
Mountains aren't built for 4ft9s with size 3 feet and asthma.
High altitude sickness is no joke.
Every step is double the pace just to keep up with everyone else's "Pole Pole."
While your already-compromised airways fight 50% oxygen like it's only half that.
Strangers-turned-friends knew me as the girl who "can't breathe".
So why climb?
Because I've already survived mountains far crueller than a 5895m dormant volcano.
Mind up here, body - I don't know where,
a blackhole between.
Kilimanjaro was the hardest thing I've ever done.
Still, I climbed.
Higher into the thinning air.
Deeper into myself.
I felt my body unravel,
and with each step,
the past peeled away.
Every chain undone.
Every fragment made whole.
At Stella Point my guide said,
"Kajana, you look sick. Your lips are blue. We need to descend now."
I snapped back:
"It's gna feel like shit either way."
Then dragged my stubborn ass forward.
One step. One breath. Even half a breath - a victory.
Ten hours of absolute agony until:
"Kajana, look up. You're at Uhuru Peak now!"
And I broke. A rib-shattering cry from my soul:
I did it. I did this.
P.S. 'Uhuru' means freedom in Swahili.
I rose -
like the freestanding mountain beneath my feet.
I climbed 5,895m, above the clouds
to stop running from myself—
to believe in myself so hard
that nothing,
no one
can ever dismantle me again.
By the time I reached that summit,
I was no longer the same.
I was forged in Kili’s fire
and burned my cage into ash.
UNBOXED
Unbreakable
Unshakeable
Unfukwithable.
I see me now.
Because my freedom
was never waiting to be found at Uhuru,
It had always been inside of me.
Because to climb Kili,
I had to tap into everything I already am -
Not to become her,
But to recognise her reflection in me.
I am
Wild & Free
It turns out, my true essence isn’t the numb, armoured version I built to survive.
She’s the wild, free unapologetic soul who’s always been there. A barefoot little rebel. Eyes burning with fire, yet wide with wonder. Unprotected, yet unbreakable.
I integrated. Both childlike and warrior-like at once. Protected. Whole.
Mountains weren’t built for 4ft9s – but I was built for mountains.
Empty Trails
When you want something, you think you'll feel better once you get it.
When you want something badly, the expectation to feel better increases.
When you want something badly for such a long time...
It almost begins to carve itself into your identity.
That constant search for the summit...
And then...you detach.
The want, melts.
The thing that defined you dissolves.
They say detachment is good.
Attachment did bring pain.
But what if pain was never the absence of happiness?
Like how cold isn't the absence of heat, only a harsher climate.
Breathing icy air is better than no air.
The opposite of joy isn't pain, it's hollow.
Like empty trails.
But maybe that's what rebirth is meant to feel like -
A clean slate.
Waiting.
For the first word.
Epiphanies in Motion 
Leave a comment