Nairobi, for Today
I have had many homes. Homes that have been people, homes that have been dreams, others that have been vice, others that have been chapels, and others still, that have been Nairobi.
I am sitting somewhere, watching Nairobi.
There is a man waking up early…maybe in Kibera, maybe in Kawangware. He is wearing dark green trousers that are too big for him. His shirt is creamish, and he wears beat-up shoes. He will talk about politics a lot today, half-informed, dogmatic quips. He will see a lady he likes, smile and she will smile back; today she will smile back. Maybe they will be by the roast-maize stand. Maybe they will be by the newspaper stand. He will go back to selling clothes, but for that moment, when she smiles, he will be fully there, there where she is.
There is a group of girls, and sometimes boys. They are maybe of Nairobi’s middle class. They are excited folk, some with big dreams, some okay with status quo but they value each other more than anything else. They take selfies with picture-perfect eyebrows and red lips, in cool restaurants and colourful events. Their minds are in the herd, but they are happy herds.
There is a photographer, revelling in this alternative lifestyle of his. He has interesting hair, a green flowered shirt and yellow pants. He has friends who remind me of 1970s University of Nairobi lecturers of English who were revolutionaries in the darkness. His life is a profundity that gives him joy he had no idea could form part of human experience.
There is a boy whose name I don’t know, sitting in a matatu, coming to town from Eastlands. Life has been heavy on him, but he looks out of the window with eyes of sadness and woundedness and hope and little delights, and he swears he will make something of himself. He loves his mother, too.
There is an old white man in a big Anglican church. His hands are shaking terribly but he is always here, fifteen minutes before the service, sitting right there under the candelabrum. I know nothing more about him.
And here I am, a happy loner, more by nature than by design. I know if I look at the mirror I will see what Nairobi has given me. I can see the many faces of the city in me. Ambition; purpose; pride; joy; depth; lessons learned.
There are the robberies and the insecurity; the urgency for money and the restlessness, the class stratification and traffic jam, and I could tell you about these. But it is a nice Sunday evening, and I am happy with Nairobi. See, I am home.
