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Corona

2 min readJul 14, 2026

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It was late 2019. I stepped off the plane in Dakar, as I had done so many times before. But this time, something was different. In the arrival hall, there were no happy faces, only police and people in white coats. A thermometer held to my forehead.

I asked what was happening.
“Corona,” they said.

Corona? I had never heard of it.

The next day, I got a call from home. Borders were closing. The world was grinding to a halt. And I was sitting in Senegal, with an eco-farm that was just beginning to take shape, and a dream that was finally coming together.

In 2019, we had started receiving our first visitors. Friends, family, a few curious souls wanting to taste the adventure. It felt like we were finally on our way. Like all those years of building, sweating, and hoping were beginning to bear fruit.

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And then everything went quiet. Only the questions remained.

No tourists. No income. The savings we had poured into it slipped through our fingers like sand. It felt like 2010, when I lost everything in the bankruptcy. The same punch in the gut. The same panic. The same silence in which you only hear: “What now?”

But it was different this time. This time, I wasn’t alone. This time, there were people around me, people in the village here, friends who kept supporting me, voices that reminded me I was no longer the same man I was in 2010.

I’ve taken some hits in this life, and they’ve hardened me. But still…

The years passed. 2021, 2022, 2023. Corona stopped, but the damage was done. It dragged on until almost 2025. The eco-farm suffered. My trust suffered. And now, in 2026, with the conflict in the Middle East and European politics in turmoil, I find myself asking the same question as before: is it time to give up? Or to start over again?

I still don’t know. You grow in this life, and you get harder. But the pain remains, and that’s okay.

Do you recognize this feeling? I’m curious about your story. Feel free to share — I read everything. 🙏

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Luc Triekels
Luc Triekels

Written by Luc Triekels

Belgian storyteller living among the mangroves of Senegal. Collecting stories about nature, people, and the places where we feel at home.