NANYUKI.
Today, I’m heading to Nanyuki, where the landscape’s dynamic invokes a spiral of emotions.
…
The journey up here felt like I was re-living one of our late-night conversations, where we’d share our local travel experiences, and I was in awe when you mentioned the places that I hadn’t visited before.
As we passed through all the places you mentioned, it was as though I was stepping into your world.
Feeling the anticipation of driving home.
I’m very excited to be here, not just as a local tourist but also to experience the sense of home that you hold.
Your home has cold mornings and evenings that are highly in contrast with the insanely hot afternoons. A symphony of extremes dancing across the sky.
The horizon is richly defined by the silhouette of Mt.Kenya. When the clouds drift away, the snow-capped peak towers above the surrounding hills that roll along the horizon.
The breathtaking sight is framed by tall, towering trees that paint the skyline with ethereal colors. Surprisingly, the acacia trees here are tall and slender as well.
The ground beneath my feet is blanketed with red soil filled with a variety of ground covers and shrubs.
The winds are dry and cool, providing relief from the scorching afternoons and attaining a delicate balance.
Upon seeing the rhythm of your home, I understood why you left.
In my home, the only resemblance to yours’ is the scorching afternoons.
Beyond that, our horizon is unfurled infinitely with the calm waters of Nam Lolwe, which mirror the blue skies above and the brown earth beneath its depths. The trees embrace the sky with their expansive canopies, unlike the tall trees that stand gracefully in Nanyuki.
The sun scorches the earth from dusk to dawn, and its heat triggers the clouds to unleash rain in the late afternoon.
At home, the nights are warm despite the sun’s absence, and the moisture-laden winds promise whispers of relief.
When we met, I naively believed that just because we share origins from sacred lands would make us feel at home with each other.
You asked how high my love is—is it like the towering mountains of your home?
Whereas, my love was as deep as the ocean, extending far beyond the lakes of my home.
Because we spoke differently, it all got lost in translation.
“Language, like a veil, hides the naked truth. In our diverse tongues, we lose ourselves in the maze of interpretation.”
~Shams of Tabriz
“When I’m home, I don’t seek affirmation from the waters of the lake.
But here I am, in a foreign land, wondering if the winds of your land ever carried whispers of your love for me.
Why?
Why?
Why do I find myself here?
I am here to shed the pieces of you that linger within me.
To seek solace for the unanswered questions that weigh heavy on my soul.
To release myself from the burdens of unreciprocated love.
Initially, I came to seek clarity from the winds of your homeland.
In the bargain, they offered to whisk this burden off my soft-rolling shoulders and tuck them away into the caves of Mt. Kenya.
The winds of your home was like a gentle hand that wiped my tears and guided me back to the waters of my own as it whispered secrets of healing.
Goodbye.
