Bucket list

Tags

bucketlist, health and fitness, spiritual, travel, world

A friend of mine is turning 30 this year, and she has her list of 30 things to do before you turn 30. She has been looking up all this actives she has left on her list since her birthday is approaching, looking at her do this things has inspired me to take a look at myself, and my life and to question my dreams and aspirations. This has led me to the realization that I live my life pretty much on a day to day basis, I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere I lost all the dreams and wishes I think I once had.

I think when we are much younger we have a lot of wishes and hopes. We always talk about all the things we want to achieve when we grow up. I don’t know if its life’s disappointments or the realities of growing up, or just getting busy and caught up with the day to day. I don’t know what exactly it is, but somewhere along the way we lose that longing and wishing and dreaming. I think a bucket list would be a good start to begin dreaming and fantasizing again. A bucket list is a list of goals, dreams you would like to achieve in your lifetime.

I found a few questions that you can ask yourself to assist in creating one;

• What if you were to die tomorrow? What would you wish you could do before you die?
• What would you do if you had unlimited time, money and resources?
• What have you always wanted to do but have not done yet?
• Any countries, places or locations you want to visit?
• What are your biggest goals and dreams?
• What do you want to see in person?
• What achievements do you want to have?
• What experiences do you want to have / feel?
• Are there any special moments you want to witness?
• What activities or skills do you want to learn or try out?
• What are the most important things you can ever do?
• Are there any specific people you want to meet in person?
• What do you want to achieve in the different areas: Social, Love, Family, Career, Finance, Health, Spiritual?

Here are some images of somethings I’d like to have on my bucket list

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My new best friend coffee…

Tags

coffee, motherhood, sleep, tantrums, terribletwos, toddler, working mum

I have never been much of a coffee drinker, nor any energy drinks. I have never really needed anything to give me energy or keep me alert because I have always slept well. I have always been well rested and I have always loved sleep. Before coffee became my best friend, sleep was my best friend. I have always taken my sleep very seriously, and I have always gotten my 8 hours or more in. I love sleep so much that even when I was single and living alone and working, I would never meet anyone on a weekday for dinner or a drink. Everyone knew this, because I had to be in bed by 10pm. No one ever bothered calling me for any activity that was past 7pm. I have always been kind of set in my ways that way, I have always been a routine kind of person.

Friday was my party day, Friday I could meet anyone, anywhere, and this is because I knew I would catch up on my sleep on Saturday.

So why is coffee my best friend now??? Simple, motherhood….I am no longer the boss of me or the author of my routine, in almost 3 years now. From pregnancy, you start realizing you are no longer in control of what you can do, but while you are pregnant all you dream of is that little person coming out, you imagine how well you sleep once they get out, people say things like ‘’I miss sleeping on my tummy’’ and believe that once that person is out of you, you will finally get back to your favorite sleeping position.

When you have a newborn, you believe once the baby is 6months they will be sleeping through the night, in their own bed and room. You believe this because everyone convinces you that the reason they wake up a lot while they are newborns, is because they are on a liquid only diet. People tell you that once they start getting some solids in, they will be better sleepers. So some desperate mums even start substituting breast milk with formula or rice cereal believing that the reasons they are not sleeping is because they are not getting enough in their tummies.

After you get past the 6month mark, you believe once they get past the teething age they will sleep. They are up with teething pain and you wonder how long will you have to be up due to teething, you know it will be until at least till their 2^nd birthday before they get all their teeth.

We are currently at this stage. She finally got all her teeth and I am thinking well at least we have crossed that hurdle, but now there is a new challenge. I don’t even know how to explain it or what to call it. I think it’s just terrible twos, but now saying goodnight, or going to bed has become a nightmare. LO has always had a loose kind of schedule. She has a bath, eats and plays for a little and then by 8.30 I would take her to bed, read her a story and she would start singing twinkle-twinkle as she drifted off to sleep. This reading and singing was introduced as a substitute to breast-feeding, after we weaned, this became our routine.

I would then get some me time, watch a little TV, hang out with my husband and go to bed at 10pm.

But the last month has become unpredictable to say the least, before I would tell her it’s time to go goodnight, she would run up to her dad, kiss him good night and then run into the bedroom. My husband even once asked, what do you give her when you go in there, because she so excited to go there. Now the word goodnight has become the trigger, once I say it’s time to go good night, its either am hungry, thirsty or just full on tantrum. It has now resulted in her falling asleep on the couch usually as late at 11pm then carrying her to bed, and please note she has to be up at 7am every morning. It’s such a struggle every night for her to finally give in to her sleep. She fights it with everything, and finally is reduced to tears before she actually falls asleep. Then even after she sleeps, she will sleep for about 4 hrs and then get up screaming, night terrors perhaps, I don’t know.

All I know is, I am no longer looking forward to any age or milestone to finally sleep, at this point am I starting to accept between sickness, milestones, nightmares, night terrors, heat, cold, thirst, climate change, seasons, the list is endless, being a mum means, I just might never get my best friend sleep back, I am just grateful that I enjoyed our relationship to the maximum while I could, for now coffee will have to do as a substitute, not my best friend by choice but out of necessity.

 

Cremation

Tags

burial, cremetion, death, family, kenyan, memorial

I recently went for a memorial service; it was for an old man who was about 85years old. He had lived a full life, so it was really not so sad but more of a celebration of his life.

It was outdoors in the woods, there were some musicians playing the violin, guitar and harp. And his friends and family spoke about the deceased. They talked about actual events that happened with him, they gave a true account and visual image of the old man. They said both the good and the bad about him and it felt so intimate and real. They had a preacher but it wasn’t too religious, they had beer cans of his favorite beer hidden all over and people were drinking, and laughing and remembering and there was some tears too. His wife’s urn was present at the table at the front, and some of his and his wife’s ashes were scattered around that area.

For me and a few other Kenyans who had attended the memorial, this was very weird. There were a few older Kenyans and after the ceremony they came up to me and said I don’t believe this, what kind of funeral was this. This ‘wazungu’s’’ (white people) are very strange, can you believe I was going to get some water and I found that it was beer, OMG, God forgive them.

In Kenya we are used to very elaborate funerals, including church service and digging 6 feet deep by young men who are hired to do the job, and somehow most funerals I have gone to involve a lot of rain and mud. It is usually a whole day affair, and the end of it people will go drink some tea and bread or eat some rice. To us this is the true way of sending off a loved one, we need to have a head stone and flowers and to see the body descend into the ground, for people to actually believe their loved one is gone. But is this the only way?

Death is final and all that people have to hold on to after are the memories, so why do we need to spend thousands and thousands on it?? An average funeral cost about $5,000 and let us not discuss when a Kenyan dies in the US and the body needs to be shipped to Kenya. Which usually involves a fund raising because majority of Kenyans don’t have death insurance. People spend so much money ensuring the deceased corpse stays intact for as long as possible, you get a casket that is water proof and one that will ensure no bugs can eat through. To add on to this cemeteries in Kenya are packed and burying people on private properties has its downfalls including making the land un-sellable.

I think a lot of people fear cremation because they view it as evil and mean, but I think we need to educate ourselves more about it. Cremation is not an alternative to a funeral, but rather an alternative to burial. Meaning we can still have a funeral, we can still have a service; we can still have a ceremony, just without having the burial.

The cremation occurs in a crematory that is housed within a crematorium and comprises one or more furnaces. A cremator is an industrial furnace that is able to generate temperatures of 870–980 °C (1,600–1,800 °F) to ensure disintegration of the corpse. A crematorium may be part of a chapel or a funeral home or may be an independent facility or a service offered by a cemetery.

The time required for cremation varies from body to body, the process may be as fast as one hour per 45 kg (100 lb) of body weight. Contrary to popular belief, the cremated remains are not ashes in the usual sense. After cremation is complete, the dry bone fragments are swept out and put in a machine called a Cremulator which is like a high-capacity, high-speed blender that processes them into ashes. This leaves the bone fine with sand like texture and color, able to be scattered. The grinding process typically takes about 20 minutes.

In comparison, cremations involve less cost. For one you don’t need a casket, or to embalm a body. You don’t need land or the cost to actually bury. You don’t have cost of transportation or a head stone.

This off course is a very sensitive and personal discussion, each person and family have a right to decide how they would prefer to rest in peace; my aim was just to enlighten someone on options that do exist.

 

Better Me…

Tags

beauty, exercise, health, motherhood, self, time

A week ago, I was reading an article about how to exercise without actually exercising, am sure a lot of people out there feel the same way too. Their so many articles, programs, diets designed around that. How to loose weight and be healthy without actually giving up our favourite treats and without getting off the couch.

Well after I did my search I found a few ideas, but one statement I read stuck in my head. The statement read, ”the greatest excuse people have not eating well or exercising is that they don’t have the time.” This is true for me because I really have no time to go to the gym. Between going to work, doing online classes, having a toddler in the house, being a wife, I have no extra time. To top it all are house chores which include daily cooking, cleaning, washing the baby and feeding her and prepping all her stuff for daycare and off course laundry and keeping the house looking decent. I actually believe I have no time. However, something about that statement struck me, the usual excuse, and key word here being excuse.

My husband has also told me on several occasions that if I really wanted to exercise, I would be able to and I would respond to him with the ‘excuse’ of I have no time.

Well I decided to dissect my day and time and figure out if I really have no time or was it just an excuse as the author of the article had claimed.

I get off work at 4.30 and am usually at home by 4.50pm. I put away laundry and prepare a smoothie for all of us as a snack (which I recently started doing in an effort to getting healthier and they love the smoothies) I try do as much as possible before LO gets home because once she does I like spending some time with her without chores interrupting. LO gets home at around 5.15pm with her dad.

So here is a thought, if I got ready for the gym at work, and left work at 4.30 and went straight to the gym for 30 mins and ask my husband to pick LO a little later so that they get home at 5.40, I would have sufficient time to get home and get a few things done before they got there

So I have now started going to the gym twice a week, I have also found a way of squeezing a little work out while am at work, I go out for a 20min walk everyday at 10am. And as mentioned above I have started making smoothies which I combine a large variety of fruit, especially fruit that is good for you but doesn’t really taste good. I am also trying to eat junk food less. We are good about cooking food, which we do just about every night, my issue usually is lunch which I end up eating out a lot.

Did I mention I am also transitioning, meaning am growing out my relaxed hair so that I can eventually have natural hair and yes I now do my own hair, I also make my own conditioner sometimes. It’s amazing how much time we have if we really want to.

All this is in an effort for a better, healthier and more natural me and more importantly a great lesson for my LO to learn how to be healthy, and my husband as well. As you know as women I think we are the pillar that gets our families healthier and happier and besides we need to because, lets face it, we are the ones that get stuck taking care of them if they get sick.

I will post a recipe of my smoothies and also I would like to blog about my transition journey soon.

I hope this can motivate someone to find time to be healthier…

 

 

Nanny Fantasy

Tags

househelps, kenya, motherhood, rights

Being in the states, labor is expensive. It’s a catch 22 situation because we move here to make money, since you get paid more to do jobs that wouldn’t pay you anything back home but at the same time you cannot afford to hire help for the same reason.

At home labor is cheap, just about everyone has a house help (which is the politically correct way of saying maid) and I have also heard other people refer to them as house managers. Everyone has a house help, even house helps have house helps, that’s how essential and available they are.

House helps do everything in the house, from cleaning, to cooking, to being a nanny, to shopping just about everything that needs be done to keep a home running.

So I have this fantasy where, I call my house help while am at work, I tell her am craving chicken tonight, so can you please go to the store get some chicken and potatoes and make them the way I love them mmhhh or I would go to the bathroom and notice a dirty window and when I get out of the bathroom and I tell her that the window needs cleaning. Or like on a Saturday morning, she would get up with the baby and I can get a chance to sleep in, and I just hear them talking and laughing in the other room while I turn and continue sleeping.

We were having a discussion with another mum who is here in the states, we were wondering how do some marriages in Kenya fail. We just can’t imagine with all the help, you have so much time to spend as a couple and enjoy each other without the stress of having to juggle everything else.

I do realize this is just a fantasy, and in reality it’s not as simple. Having someone who is like a total stranger living in your house, having your kids so attached to them, and in some cases they are not dependable at all, having to trust a total stranger with your most precious possession, your baby and many of them do actually turn out to be devils in disguise. Many have abandoned babies, some have kidnapped babies, and some have abused babies. The thought of having to deal with that knowledge while you go to work must be extremely terrifying.

But on the other hand, I do wish our Kenyan mums and family’s would realize how fortunate they are to have this helpers. Having been a stay at home mum for a year, I now realize how difficult it is to balance all the chores and actives in a household and on top of that keep up with kids. I wish I could impart this lesson to my people. We need to treat our house helps more like partners and legitimate employees. They deserve to have rights and vacations, they deserve to spend time with their own families, they deserve to have medical care and retirement plans. They deserve the utmost respect for they are a very crucial and essential part of our economy.

So when I see Kenyan mums treating them negatively and actually going against the law and not wanting to pay them at least the minimum wage, it breaks my heart. It has taken being away from home, and being a stay at home mum, to actually appreciate all that they do for families.

Complexities of Race

This is a topic I have avoided tackling for some time now, it’s not an easy topic to tackle because it extremely complex.

I felt it wasn’t fair for me to discuss, since I have been in the states for only 3 years, it really isn’t sufficient time to understand such a complex situation, however with the story of Eric Garner on the news today its extremely difficult not to talk about it or think about race.

I did not realize I was black until I relocated to the states, back home majority of the people are black, off course like humans will do, we might be one color but we are still divided along tribal lines. Well in the states people are divided along racial lines. Eric Garner died after police officers had a choke hold on him, he was a big man, 400 pounds and asthmatic. The whole incident was caught on video and when you watch the video you can actually hear him telling the officers ‘I can’t breath, I can’t breath’ over and over. A part of me wonders if this incident wasn’t caught on camera would it be in the news today. How many other incidents like this occur on a daily basis and since they are not caught on camera they don’t get any attention? What would have happened had it been a white man, how much differently would have the police handled the situation?

When you are born as a black man in this country, you come into the world with two strikes against you. The percentage of black men in jail, percentage of people with health issues including Aids in the black community and the terrible state of public schools in black neighborhoods is enough for you to wonder, do black people really have a fair chance in this country. I have seen it in the media on black movies and black TV shows and have also heard it on radio. When you bringing up a young black man, you need to have what is called ‘the talk’ with him, this talk is when you explain to your young man how to interact with police officers, as a black man the likely hood of being pulled over is 3 times higher than a white man. In this talk you explain to him that he should not talk back to the police officers, he needs to cooperate with them and not make any sudden movements, he needs to appear harmless, because they will look for any excuse to attack him.

You could tell Eric Garner was familiar with the talk because he shows the officers his hands and explains to them that he doesn’t want any trouble. I saw one comment on the video saying it was like a pack of lions surrounding a zebra, that exactly how it felt but no one would have thought it would result in his death.

While people of color make up about 30 percent of the United States population, they account for 60 percent of those imprisoned

After you have been incarcerated, your chances of having a life after that are over. First of all you’re voting rights are limited, meaning you can’t make a change in your community, you are denied equal access to employment, housing, education and much more.

Before I got to understand the complexity of this situation, it was very easy to dismiss black people as being lazy and wanting a free ride, but on closer observation and having experienced life as one I now realize black people are already set up for failure from the beginning. How are men supposed to learn how to be men when they are raised by single mothers, how are women supposed to be well rounded when they don’t know their fathers, how are women supposed to find husbands when a majority of young men is in jail, how are people supposed to make a decent income when they can’t find decent employment or can’t start business because banks won’t lend them money?

Like I said, there so many layers to this topic and all I have done is scrap a little of the top surface, but mainly I just want to provoke thought.

From migrant to refugee…

Tags

family, immigration, kenya

On the news lately we are bombarded with images of terrorism and war all over the world. From boko haram to al-qaed to al shabab to Isis to Israel and Palestine, it just feels like the world is collapsing.

This weekend, one particular image has been haunting me, it was the image of people who are originally from Israel but are American citizens escaping the crisis in Israel and coming back to the states. They were all in tears crying, they were escaping yes, and they knew they would be safe. But what about those they are leaving behind, what about their home, what will happen to it? I don’t even know how you make that decision, to leave, what do you tell those people that you are leaving behind?

To me I can relate so much because of everything that is going on in my home country Kenya. Never before did I think we would have acts of terrorism in Kenya, never did I think I would ever dread seeing news about Kenya. But that is us today, we have a lot of unnecessary killings, people are constantly being warned about avoiding certain areas, and we constantly have travel advisories warning people against visiting.

 

I remember when the shooting in west gate mall happened, one of my workmates said to me;

‘’am sure you are glad you are not there,’’ to which I responded

‘’when such things happen, I feel like I need to visit even more urgently. What if something happens to someone in my family and I never get a chance to see them again, or to say good bye’’

I have wanted to visit home ever since my baby was 6months, she’s now almost 2 and a half years. In my mind the way I pictured my trip keeps changing with every act of violence and terrorism.

Initially I would fanaticize going home, and getting to do all the things we are not capable of doing here since we have no help with the baby. My visit was going to be filled with activities, I was planning on going for movies, going to the club, having spa dates and traveling out of town.

Two years later and after numerous attacks by al shabab and other attacks that appear to be political, all I look forward to doing when I go home is spending time with my family, sitting in silence with them, breathing the same air, laughing, touching and embracing them

Because in this world we are living in today it’s so easy to move from being a migrant to becoming a refugee.

I am not my hair

Tags

beauty, black, kenyan, natural hair

I think today is the best time to be bringing up a black girl. Dark is considered beautiful, all you have to do is look around, the most beautiful people right now are really dark people. A good example is Lupita Nyongo, who would have ever thought, a dark skinned female with no hair would be considered beautiful.

Lupita Nyongo

That is why it’s so exciting to have a baby girl in this day and age. Black people and especially black women have come full circle. We have developed the confidence to be our natural selves; black women are rocking their natural locks and loving it

When we were coming up (like people here would say) we did everything possible to straighten our hairs, from the hot comb to blow drier to relaxer. We dreamt and waited for the day we would finally get a relaxer on our hair.

I remember when I finally got one; it was just about the most exciting day for me. I am not sure where my mum had got the chemical (relaxer) from, but my older sister and her mixed it up, put some gloves on and filled my edges with Vaseline.

”This will prevent it from burning your skin they told me.”

I was sitting in the middle of the living room with a towel around my shoulders anxiously waiting. I was about 12years old, and finally I was getting my first relaxer.

Once they were done putting it on my hair and making sure it was completely rinsed out of my hair, they checked to see how many burn marks I had. It was a few, not too many and that was considered a great success.

I could not wait to show off my hair at school the next day, I remember we were going swimming and for once I would have open hair while I was swimming. Once I put my hair in the water, ohh wow it lay down on my head flat, I was walking on cloud 9 after that. My mane was gorgeous I thought, I had never seen hair lay that flat on my head before.

My bubble was later burst, about a week later my hair started cutting. What is going on with it I wondered and asked my mum? We did not really know much about conditioning and treating hair then. Due to lack of proper maintenance I ended up having to cut my hair.

This was the beginning of relaxing my hair.

Now when I think about all those days, all I hope and wish for, is that my daughter will never have to go through all of this. In my mind she will grow up to love her natural look, she will love being multi cultural, she will love her language, she will love that she has family all over the globe and will visit them, (since as an American citizen it’s so easy to travel) she will be well traveled, exposed, humble, confident, respectful, natural and beautiful

But then is this realistic for me to hope for? Right now she’s surrounded by more white people than black, her caregivers are white, she’s the only black girl in her class, so a part of me wonders….will she wish she was white, will she admire white girls golden locks, will she be attracted to only white men, will she be embarrassed when I speak my language in public or in front of her friends???

I don’t know….all I can do for now is tell her she’s beautifully and wonderfully made, and her hair is gorgeous and her skin is always perfectly tanned and maybe just maybe all this will be enough for her to be all I hope and dream for her and much more…..

Swahili Saying

Tags

motherhood, pregnancy and childbirth, swahili

We have a saying in Swahili, kuzaa mtoto sio kazi, kumlea ndio kazi…( pregnancy and childbirth are easy, taking care and raising a child is the true work) never has there been a saying that I have come to realize to be more true

My pregnancy went along smoothly, when I was admitted at the hospital one nurse described it as ‘a boring pregnancy with no issues, just how we like it’

Labor was the most dramatic part of the pregnancy I would say, completely unbearable pain. I was planning on having a natural birth, like so many women have throughout history, my body was built to do this, but with the knowledge of drugs being available, knowing I didn’t have to feel this pain, it is was close to impossible to do it drug free.

At 8cm I got an epidural shot, the relief….oh God the relief was amazing. I was completely numb; I could not feel a thing from the waist down, all I kept saying was who ever invented that shot, God bless them. Now I could actually have a phone conversation and take some pictures of this epic moment.

Finally it was time to push they told me,

‘How do you know?’ I would ask, I feel nothing, am completely numb.

‘’Grab her leg,’’ yelled the nurse at my husband, my legs were completely numb, ‘you need to hold it and push it toward her chest’’, says the nurse.

PUSH! the nurse instructed me, and like I had practiced at my Lamaze classes I pushed my chin onto my chest and pushed.

‘Stop’ she said, the baby is coming, she paged the doctor. When the doctor arrived in the room he came in with a pediatric team. He told me the baby had had a bowel movement, and it was dangerous for her to inhale, so we needed a pediatric team to check the baby as soon as she was delivered, and a team it was, I remember them being about 10 people cheering me on as I pushed.

I can see her hair said the doctor and my husband couldn’t help but take a peep at it. The next thing I heard was a cry. The look on my husband’s face was priceless. He was overwhelmed….with love. They immediately took her away to make sure she was ok. My husband was on the phone with my mum…shes here, shes here….everybody said she had a great set of lungs, her cry was loud, bold, like an announcement, I am here.

Looking down I can see the reflection of blood and placenta on the doctor’s glasses, I am numb from the waist down, I feel nothing

Are you planning on breastfeeding asks a nurse, yes.. I catch myself responding. They bring this little creature and place her on my bare chest, this will stimulate breast feeding…

She squirms and moves on my chest, I have nothing to say to her, I have waited such a long time to meet her, I have talked to her every day for months and now she’s here and I have nothing to say to her.

We are finally alone and she latches on my breast. She breastfeeds all night, she doesn’t sleep at all, something must be wrong I tell the nurses when they come in to check on us.

In the morning the doctor tells me it’s called cluster feeding, they usually do this…well at least it has a name I tell myself, it’s an actual thing, am not imaging it.

I look at her and I don’t see her just like she doesn’t see me, I can see her physically but am not feeling connected to her like countless women have claimed, love at first sight..

I take home this squirmy little creature, I never ever get to sleep, I am bleeding and have to wear disposable panties, I am engorged, Lord why is this breastfeeding thing so hard I have seen tones and tones of women do it, why am I having such a hard time with something so simple and natural.

Sleep deprivation + hormonal = resentment

I resented this little person, I fantasized about sleeping, I miss my independence, I miss eating a meal with no interruptions, I miss long, hot showers…I miss everything I took for granted and my life before

‘I can’t do this anymore’, I heard myself tell my husband while he was changing her diaper one morning. ‘I don’t feel equipped for it, I don’t feel the love and connection am supposed to feel’

After uttering those words, I felt guilt come down on me like a ton of bricks, how could I say that and feel that way about my little precious, helpless baby. She needs me, she was made out of love, she’s healthy and beautiful. How could I resent her…

And for the first time, I saw her….I saw her for the perfect, adorable, precious, gift from God that she was, and I have never stopped seeing her.

She’s my world, my reason for existing, my everything…..

Am a legal alien

Tags

home, immigration, kenya, legal alien

Different Faces of immigrants

 

Ohhhh am an alien, am a legal alien, am a Kenyan in Americaaa…oohhh

Is the soundtrack to my life, I never thought this 90’s hit song would one day be so relevant to me

But now it plays over and over in my mind….

As I sit hear listening to people talk about THE KING IS GOING BACK HOME,

Who is this King they speak of, only to find out its Lebron James; I simply just don’t get it,

What is the big deal?? This is just a glimpse into the many things ‘I just don’t get’ on a daily basis.

LIFE OF AN IMMIGRANT…..

I wake up every morning expecting to hear noise from matatus and children playing outside,

It rained all of last night, oh how I love the smell of rain…

But I get up to the rude awakening of none of those things, no disorganized sounds, no disorganized sights; it feels like everything is right where it’s supposed to be, in its place, so clean, so perfect, so FAKE…

Why doesn’t it smell like rain here, I used to always wonder? Now I don’t notice it anymore, it’s just another day, another morning…

I practice my pronunciations over and over in my head before I open my mouth and say anything, ‘Good MoRning’ remember to enunciate the R I tell myself.

Only to get a polite smile and giggle from someone who doesn’t understand my ‘accent’

I know this giggle and smile very well; it’s something I have hidden behind many time

The smell of home, the sweet sweet smell of rain hitting the ground

The smell of home, the smell of nyama choma as I drive by a nyama choma joint…

The smell of home, the smell of dust blowing by me as I am about to get into a matatu

The smell of home, the smell of sweaty construction workers walking home from industrial area

The smell of home, the smell of fish being deep fried by the road side as I am walking home

The smell of home, the smell of dirty water filled with plastic bags stuck in a drainage that hasn’t worked in years

All this are the smells I never thought it possible to miss, but I crave them so much it hurts…

For now I will keep going, blocking the memories and thoughts of home, because that’s the only way I can keep going, not thinking about my loved ones, not thinking about my home, not thinking about not belonging here as I keep the tune going on and on in my head…

Ohhh am an alien, am a legal alien, am a Kenyan in Americaaa…oooohh