Wander and Weave

Many Hats, One Vision: The World of Loyaan Some women don’t believe in straight lines. They understand early that life bends, stretches, pauses, and restarts, and instead of resisting that rhythm, they build with it. Loyaan is one of those women. Her world is layered: events unfolding into memories, passports filling with stamps, beauty taking shape strand by strand. Not because she set out to do everything, but because she understood one simple truth early on, nothing thrives forever in the same season. Business is not faithful to consistency. It moves like weather. There are times when one venture goes quiet, when sales slow, when effort feels unanswered. And then, almost without warning, another door opens. Travel picks up. Events flourish. The tide shifts. Loyaan learned not to panic when one basket feels empty, because she never placed all her eggs in one. Her twenties are not for comfort. They are for endurance. For learning what fatigue feels like. For discovering how much she c...

Home Is Where the Oven Is: Festive Baking, Sweet Treats & Family Time Today, I woke up feeling feHome Is Where the Oven Is: Festive Baking, Sweet Treats & Family Timestive, the kind of festive that makes you hum Christmas songs while still in pyjamas and convinces you that calories don’t count in December. The air felt softer, the day slower, and my heart kept whispering the same thought: what better way to bond as a family than baking together? Not fancy, not perfect, just flour-dusted countertops, laughter, and the occasional “oops” moment when someone adds sugar twice. Christmas baking, for me, isn’t about perfection. It’s about creating memories you can taste. It’s about sticky fingers, stolen spoonfuls of batter, and the joy of watching something sweet come to life together. We started with pistachio snowball cookies, little green gems that look like they’ve been kissed by Christmas itself. Butter, icing sugar, vanilla, flour, and finely ground pistachios come together in ...

The Wisdom Carried in Our Bones by Jesman “Jez” Mutezo Growing up in a large extended family wasn’t just a way of life, it was a symphony of voices, a collection of lived stories passed down like heirlooms. Our house was always full: aunts laughing in the kitchen, uncles debating politics under the guava tree, cousins playing barefoot in the dust, and my grandparents offering a kind of quiet strength that only age and experience can craft. In that lively home, wisdom was never scheduled, it simply spilled into everyday moments. One of the first proverbs I remember hearing from my grandparents was, "Rume rimwe harikombi churu," one man alone cannot surround an anthill. At the time, I didn’t understand the weight of it. But as I’ve journeyed through life, moving to foreign lands and navigating unfamiliar systems, those words echo back with power. I’ve come to know that no one truly makes it alone. Whether it was an old friend offering a job lead, a stranger holding my hand in a...

Christmas in Japan vs Christmas in Zimbabwe: Two Worlds, One Festive Spirit Christmas is officially in the air, and lately I’ve been getting the same question over and over again: “So… what are your Christmas plans this year?” Being in Japan, far from home, that question always makes me pause, smile, and reflect. And just like that, I thought, why not turn this into a Wander and Weave story? Because if there’s one thing worth talking about, it’s how wildly different, yet beautifully meaningful, Christmas feels in Japan compared to my home country, Zimbabwe. Let’s start with Japan. Christmas here is festive, magical, and sparkly, but not in the way many of us Africans know it. Interestingly enough, Christmas is not a national holiday in Japan. With only about one percent of the population identifying as Christian, the day itself holds very little religious significance. Yet somehow, the country still manages to celebrate it with an enthusiasm that could easily fool a first-time visitor ...

“Whispers of the Women” — A Poem for 16 Days of Activism In the quiet corners of our villages, behind closed doors in our cities, there are women whose stories sit heavy on their tongues. They walk with straight backs but broken hearts, their courage wrapped in silence, their hope tucked beneath bruised ribs. AnaMai vedu, mothers of our land, taught to swallow pain like bitter herbs, to keep the home together no matter how their own spirits bend. “Tsungirira,” they were told, endure, as if endurance was a birthright, as if suffering was stitched into their skin like ancestral cloth. Every day, a sister becomes a shadow. Her laughter dims, her dreams wilt before they bloom. Somewhere in Harare, in Chitungwiza, in Bulawayo, a woman wipes tears before the children wake, whispering "Mwari pindirai" God, intervene, because the world has not heard her cry. She hides the truths that burn her throat: the slap that echoes louder at midnight, the words that wound deeper than fists, th...

A Taste of Home: Where to Find Authentic Zimbabwean Traditional Cuisine Today, I woke up with that sudden, dangerous kind of nostalgia, the one that starts in your stomach before it hits your heart. Out of nowhere, I found myself craving muboora, fish stew, mazondo, and of course, the one love that has never broken my heart: sadza. If you know me well, you already know this is not new information. My relationship with sadza is deeper than some people’s relationships. I’ve never pretended otherwise. Living far from home has its beautiful moments, but nothing humbles you faster than missing the taste of real Zimbabwean traditional cuisine. You can travel the world, eat sushi in Tokyo or pasta in Rome, but the first spoon of muboora from back home? Ah… that’s a hug for the soul. So today, I’m taking you on a little culinary tour, a guide to some of the best places serving Zimbabwe’s beloved traditional dishes. Some of these places I’ve personally visited, others I’ve admired from afar th...

  Cosy Winter, Cottage-Core Dreams: My Style Diary for the Cold Season Winter has officially arrived, and this year I promised myself one thing: I am choosing comfort. The soft, warm, “I could nap anywhere” kind of comfort. The kind of comfort that still looks cute, stylish, intentional, and just a tiny bit magical, you know, that cottage-core softness that makes you look like you own a little cabin in the woods even though you’re really just rushing for the last train in Tokyo. That’s the vibe I’m carrying into this season. Every winter, fashion lovers have to make that choice: do we want to be warm, or do we want to be stylish? This year, I’m refusing to choose. I am wrapping myself in thick textures, warm colours, knitted miracles, and fluffy coats that feel like hugs from heaven. Winter may try its best to humble me, but my outfits will be telling a different story. Let’s start with the oversized coat, my entire personality from December to March. There is something empowerin...