I have already written about how I grew up in Makunduchi, in the south of Unguja, during the early years of my life. Our whole family lived together in a rather small house, and yet our life was a privileged one thanks to my father’s social standing.

As a result, we had several domestic staff who helped my mother look after the ever-growing family.

One of them was Baba Haji. He had a lasting influence on me, and I still remember him today with great love and appreciation.

Baba Haji was a native of Makunduchi. Many people from this part of the island referred to themselves as ‘the shirazi’. He had two daughters – Mtumwa and Mwaka – and a son, Pandu, and lived in a very small, simple cottage in Makunduchi.

In our household, he worked as a cook and a male nanny; he washed and ironed our clothes and looked after the garden – and of course after us children.

Later, when we were living in Stone Town, Baba Haji often came to visit us. Those were always very special moments. We children couldn’t get enough of all the stories he told about our time in Makunduchi.

He told lots of funny stories about me. I suppose I was a funny and very energetic boy from a young age, who got up to all sorts of mischief in the neighbourhood.

After emigrating to Denmark, I returned to my homeland in 1997 and visited Baba Haji in Makunduchi. By that time, he was already an old man.

Whenever I visited him in Kajengwa, Baba Haji was always delighted. We shared a very special bond.

And Baba Haji was so grateful that he owned his little cottage, as he had once been in my father’s service. In that cottage, he ran a ‘Mkahawa’ and sold coffee, tea, mandazi and small local dishes there.

May Baba Haji rest in peace! You were a very special, kind-hearted person. Thank you for that and for all what you have done to me and our family!