Since my childhood, I have always been magnetized by the train. The sound of a train whistle, the announcement of the approaching station, the sound of wheels on steel.

The train station is its self an intrigued little universe where stories and people are overlapped and intertwined. No matter what the final destination is, the train stills in me a sense of freedom, charm. A sense of nostalgia and home.

It is here where I like reading a book, observe the dimension of the world through the window , write on my diary, let my face and arms enjoy the sun and the wind, fall asleep.

But overall, it is here that I like observing the time passing by so slowly. I build my temporary micro universe and I decide to either be a viewer of the society or actively mix with the life around me and my companions.

I took this picture few days ago, at the Kigoma train station where few times a week the train still connects people, and not only, between the west and the east of Tanzania.

For months I have been thinking to make that journey and take that express train myself.