Throughout my carreer I have been honoured to work with the most amazing people. In 2014, I was working in Tanzania on my day job, meeting the people at the grassroots who implement my organisation’s projects. We travelled in the early hours of the morning from Dar es Salaam to Mbeya by plane. I was with my colleagues and those working on the projects. At 7.15 am I saw the sun rise over the hills as we climbed on a bus that drove us 3 hours down a windy road to Kyela near the border with Malawi. I have done many journeys like this, by car or bus and have been privileged to visit the most basic facilities. I am always humbled by the dedication of the health workers and the few resources that they have to work with.

Over the next two days, we visited many facilities. I always take photos, I talk, but more importantly, I listen, and I look. This work is part of who I am, and I give of myself what I can. I am not here to judge, I am not here to lecture, I am here to understand the limitations of health access in their country and to understand how new technologies and medicines could help. I give my time and a little piece of who I am, my ear – a hand to hold, or maybe a piece of chocolate I have brought from Switzerland.

I write up the outcomes in my report back in Geneva where I work, but these people have moved me beyond work with their stories and resilience in the face of adversity. On this visit, we met with a local group of people all living with HIV. One gentleman told me of a small plot of land that he and a few others tend. They save the money they make from selling the vegetables, and they share it when one of them or their family needs it for health reasons. The accounts are numerous; they all touch me, and I wish I could help them all. As you have seen from these pages, I have chosen to help the children, and the only means for me today is to use my gift of being able to paint and teach painting. I paint what I have seen; I paint what I feel. The shape of a face, a view from a car window, a colour, texture. Painting is about emotion; the trips shape my feelings through art. I paint with a palette knife, acrylics, oil, pastels, and mixed media. As for the viewer, you, you have your own emotions. What makes a good painting is how it makes you feel. We are all different; we see and think in various ways, making life beautiful and interesting.
I did not train as an artist. I went to a very academic school in France that praised math and economics; it did not stop me from painting, but I felt I did not have the grounding to follow art at University. I found a happy medium and studied Communication in Edinburgh. I excelled at photography and video editing at that time.

My first proper job, in Leeds 1992, was as an account handler in an advertising agency. I secretly envied the art directors and their palette of felt-tip pens. Later, for health reasons (ulcerative colitis), I went back to studying textile design. I loved it! I dabbled in paint and enjoyed the mechanics of the loom, but I just wanted to paint. I had my first son, and by the end of the course, I was pregnant with my second son. With a house too small to accommodate our growing family, we moved just outside Geneva in France (1998). With two small boys, I was kept busy. I sat on the Board of a large and prosperous playgroup as craft director. For many years, I created the art curriculum, and the projects were ambitious, I admit; there was always a lot of paint, glitter and glue. My husband and I did a distance learning professional photography course; I started painting classes with Alain Gegout. Alain taught me to let go, to let the inspiration take me, to enter the trance of painting, and let the journey take me. He taught me what to look for and when to put the palette knife down.

To supplement our income, I started doing communication consultancy work. My clients were from UN organizations, and the subject was health-related. I found the work fascinating; I could never know enough about the subject matter and found my knowledge limitations frustrating. In 2004, I had my third son, but that did not stop my working and painting. I even took up the guitar, which I enjoyed the sound of but where I have no skill.
In 2006, I decided to do a master’s degree in public health. I did it by distance learning with the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicines (LSHTM). The idea was to keep me at home with the boys a little longer, but I was working full time within six months. The master’s took four years, and I loved the subjects. I focused on health promotion as it fitted well with my communication background. I also studied infectious diseases, namely HIV, TB and malaria. Over those four years, the painting was put on hold. My work developed and forged what I do today. When I finally got my masters in 2010, I knew I needed to paint again.
I have been working in the HIV space for over twenty years. I have watched the girls in Kenya grow into extraordinary young women, and I am so proud of them. I also help five NGO’s in West Africa, Cote d’Ivoire, Mali, Togo, Senegal, and Burkina Faso, keep girls in school. I continue to travel and remain humble to the fantastic people I meet. We all need to be believed in, and as I believe in them, I think they will never cease to amaze me with what they have accomplished. To my dear friends in Kenya and beyond, let’s keep this journey going.
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