"As soon as he arrives we'll organise something macro... Not the usual dinner... I'd say an ethno-gastronomic didactic pilgrimage similar to photography. Like Kilifi, or Savannah with an overnight stay".
This is the last message that Nicoletta sent me a few days ago, together with many other beautiful words for our (Leni's and mine) work.
That's how she was, enthusiastic, eager for life, splendidly crazy about Africa and curious about everything.
She was generous, joking, pissed off, always smiling, shouting, pleasantly talkative.
She was a journalist, businesswoman, hotelier, and above all a delightful traveller and companion. Her house on the sea of Jacaranda Bay was always open to friends and her sudden escapes to the savannah showed her Trinacrian African soul.
Nicoletta 'la sicula', Nicoletta the fighter, Nicoletta Latteri did not make it.
In this bastard period in which in Italy it is forbidden to be sick because the hospital not only means a greater probability of contracting Covid-19 but also of encountering bacteria left aside and situations resulting from other emergencies, Nicoletta did not make it.
At the age of 60, she was an adopted Malindina, one of those who fit in perfectly here, and who could not fail to be well liked by all, fellow countrymen and Kenyans alike.
Even on this painful occasion, or just before, you would have had more words than I did, and they would certainly have been surprising, colourful and sincere. Like you.
Bye Nick, safari njema.