My first time here

We drove all the way from Meru to Nairobi, not sure of whether we were going to the real city. I don’t remember whether I was much excited though I wish  I can recall my feelings. The last time I had used the same route was probably in composition writing where I still had to struggle mapping out which town came before the other if at all I remembered any. Friends, some moments happens once in life time, you meet some people once in life time, you experience some situation once in life time but all in all I think it fulfilling living one day at a time. Be your best, do your best, treat people best and all in all revering God, seeking always to please him.

Thank you atleast you are in second paragraph and most probably you are determined to read this post. I can be myself now.Okey, HERE as used in the tittle is symbolic, standing for Nairobi, and so the tittle would be MY FIRST TIME IN NAIROBI. I just avoided it, not sure why. I happened to be a village girl by birth and growth for some years or so I think.  We knew from our  geography class called G.H.C bythen about the capital city of Kenya and there was this virtual Nairobi that was created in mind.

Its always normal to create a picture in mind of places you’ve heard even though not seen. Am sure even for them whom Nairobi is their “ushagu” still have a picture of the told upcountry life and also first experience if it was. For us we knew of this Nairobi as where my aunt worked and visited us during Christmas, bringing us new clothes, the Nairobi bread and ofcourse the Nairobi stories. We knew of Nairobi where His excellency Moi (second president of Kenya) lived  and we would know all that was happening  via radio only. A neighbor of mine was privileged as we would call it, to be taken for eye checkup in Nairobi and he brought home another ingredient of what made my virtual Nairobi. He told us that in Nairobi, vehicles are more than people. I would never stop to imagine of this city that has more vehicles than people.

I happened to be a schoolmate with Hamida who was a Muslim, We became friends which had trickled down from her family and my aunt’s. They lived in Nairobi and so any time her father was not in a position to pick her on closing days, I would take her to the stage, take the nissan number and the drivers phone number which we would send her dad indicating also the time it left. This time round her father came to pick her up and he asked if he would take my cousin and I along with him for a week.

That was the day my virtue Nairobi got formatted and hence another copy installed. Atleast, am trying to do justice to my computer scientist profession else blogging blurs it. We were arriving abit late and right I saw those many street lights lighting the highway, making such a beautiful view, I had no doubt that I was in the famous city. It was so beautiful to look at, not sure if it could beat the beauty of watching stars at night on those maize harvesting seasons or else hide and seek game evenings. My home is near Meru -Nairobi highway with no streets light though vehicle are enough to light your way home till you curve to the village paths. You can be sure at my age the view was breathe taking.

Sooner than later, we were already on stairs to a place I wasn’t sure, far from my mum and yet in a Muslim home. Very warm and lovely people they were. We were welcomed, introduced to all we met and  I was already feeling at home though in a dream land. Even if I was given a map I would not located where I was, probably I was feeling like I was hanging somewhere on planet earth that felt like home.

When the food was ready the kids sat on the floor and ate from one plate, we ate from one plate with Hamida. Mmmmh yes, the food was so delicious, with an addition of it being Nairobi food and by the fact that we never used a spoon. For the first day I was taught how to eat without a spoon, though a Meru I didn’t struggle catching up.  We remained in the house for almost a week, eating, showering, reading books and sleeping. Yes and for me I used to watch some planes take off   which made a very nice view from the window while lying on the upper decker. It was interesting, atleast there was no carrying bananas to Miruriiri(kibuchio), no milking, no going to the shamba but I still missed helping my parents which I liked most.

We would stay in the room with Hamida, a very beautiful girl, so soft, I mean so soft to touch, look at, long dark flowing hair and a warm heart. It was interesting giving her my attention, imagining how special  she was by the fact that she had never experienced upcountry life. She gave me alot of stories, until sometimes I didn’t understand how time flew. In me I kept wondering if she might me concerned with my harder hands compared to hers, inherited hard hair…hahaha..I doubt if my English is good. She seemed interested in my company still and so it was. Her father was a real father, I remember how he used to knock our door everyday after job just to check on us. Their  aunt was so good to us too, I liked them.

It was a day to the end of my stay and atleast we had a chance to take her aunt to pick her daughter from school. We got there abit earlier and so we walked in to hang around the school compound. It was a muslim school so before long one of the teachers or so I think had approached us requesting I go outside because I didn’t have an head scuff.  Happy for Hamida and her aunt for we walked together outside the gate where we waited till time was ripe. The following day we were downstairs very early in the morning and the journey back to Meru was on.

I met these precious people for a very short time and sooner than I thought high school time was gone and so we parted ways.I have been to Nairobi for a good number of days now and am still not able to trace where I stayed during my first visit to the city. If am not wrong it was Moi airbase Eastleigh, most probably at SQs or so. God bless you Hamida and your family. Hope we shall trace one another someday. I still can’t forget my other good friend Sofia Hassan and Habiba, Hope I didn’t forget the names.