When we meet new people, curiosity creeps forward, hungry to know who they are beneath the surface: What makes them laugh? What do they fear? Have they ever watched the sunrise from a rooftop? It’s not just facts we want, it’s nuances, history, contradiction. In every unfamiliar face lies an unexplored universe. Curiosity compels us to explore these worlds, hoping to find pieces of ourselves reflected in others.
Maybe we don’t just want to know, maybe we want to feel what it’s like to be someone else. It is part of the grand narrative that keeps life pulsating forward. My heart thundered in my chest, wild and unrelenting. The air seemed charged, thick with static and possibility as I stood ready for adventure. My body betrayed me with a curious duality: joy surged like a tide, yet a flicker of apprehension crept in, sharp and present. I was in a place that had always held a kind of magic for me. Airports, those strange, in-between worlds that brim with promises: distant cities, unfamiliar languages, chance meetings.
No wonder my pulse raced. The Wright brothers once defied gravity with nothing more than ingenuity and fragile wood. Now, I gazed out at a vast procession of sleek, silver birds, each one polished to a gleam, tails adorned with vivid emblems from across the globe. I loved planes. Flight captivated me. Around me, strangers rushed and waited, lives suspended mid-journey. And I, anchored by the comforting presence of mom, dad, and little sister Sadia, felt safe, yet ready to soar.
At last, the moment arrived. We stepped forward, presenting our documents, unlocking the door to our long-awaited adventure. The air around us thrummed with life; voices layered in accents from faraway lands, the shuffle of feet, the rustle of bags, all creating a current of anticipation. We took our seats, the calm voice of the pilot crackling through the speakers. The engines roared to life, and we were lifted into the sky, on course for the legendary city of London. When we landed, I expected to feel weary, but instead, energy surged through me. Adrenaline worked its quiet magic, making everything brighter, louder, more alive.
London buzzed in a way Lobatse never had, frenetic, strange, exhilarating. I loved it, though I was mildly disappointed to discover that Piccadilly Circus wasn’t an actual circus. No clowns. No lions. A name like that should come with spectacle. Eventually, we boarded once more and soared across the Atlantic, touching down in Toronto, Canada. Another world, waiting to be discovered.
As we stepped into the bustling crowd, my mother’s face lit up like a lantern, her eyes scanning eagerly before she darted toward a small gathering of waiting faces. Laughter, hugs, and bursts of joy quickly followed, anchoring the moment with a kind of charged, familial energy. There they were, Uncle Hamid, Auntie Sulma, and my cousin Rian, who had come to greet us. Rian was two years older, and though we shared blood, this was our first time meeting. Curiosity flickered through me, alive and alert. He had an angular face and a smile that stretched easily across it. Nothing like mine, yet there was something quietly familiar in his presence. His Canadian accent amused me, but more than that, it was the warmth he radiated that struck me.
Though we’d never met before, it felt as if something deep in our DNA recognised each other. I didn’t just meet a cousin that day, I met the big brother I hadn’t known I was waiting for. Perhaps it was the same restless curiosity that drove Mykhailo Viktorovych Polyakova, a 24-year-old US citizen and YouTuber, to recklessly trespass onto North Sentinel Island, one of the most remote and fiercely protected places on earth.
Arrested for the unauthorised voyage, Mykhailo sought viral fame by attempting contact with the elusive and dangerous Sentinelese tribe, whose population hovers between 100 and 150. Footage captured his bizarre offering, a can of Coke and a coconut, as he drifted toward the island’s forbidden shore, grinning as though he were visiting a theme park rather than encroaching on an ancient, isolated civilisation.
The Sentinelese have lived in near-total seclusion for thousands of years, their message to the modern world simple and consistent; stay away. India enforces a strict five-kilometre exclusion zone to honour that boundary.
But Mykhailo seemed to think himself untouchable. His stunt was not only foolish, it was dangerously arrogant. Now he faces up to five years in prison. He’s lucky, in truth. The Sentinelese have killed before. This time, curiosity spared him. Next time, it may not.
