I Guess Home Misses You Too

I guess home misses you too. 

I guess it really does. When you’ve been away, home has missed you too. 

I’ve been away away since I was 17. I moved to South Africa then back to Kenya then to the United States for two years then to the UK for one year then back to the United States for one year. Then to Australia for exactly 649days. 

It’s been one looong adventure around the world. I haven’t travelled fancy. In fact, I remember one time I missed my connecting bus from New York to Williamstown and there was only one last train that night heading to Albany - a town 45 minutes away from Williamstown. 

I had two large suitcases each 23 kilos each and I hauled them with me from Port Authority to Penn Station. I made it just in time to catch the last 7pm train then once I got to Albany, I caught a taxi to Williamstown. My taxi ride cost $130 dollars.

I cried all the way back to Uni. 

That was one of the hardest solo journeys I’ve ever made. In the depths of winter. A 20-something year old girl navigating rural Massachusetts all on her own. 

Or what about that time I passed out while onboard Ethiopian Airlines. I was on my way home from the UK for spring break. I remember falling asleep right as the flight took off at about 8pm and waking up complete breathlessness. 

Now this was around the time that planes were getting lost mid-air so I thought for a moment fate had caught up with me but alas when I looked around me, everyone else was asleep. 

So I decided to stand up and take a walk around the cabin. As soon as I got near the lavatories, I lost consciousness and fell like a sack of potatoes on a white male passenger with really spiky hair. I felt it all across my face. Then I blacked out. 

The next thing I heard was an air hostess calling for a doctor to come attend to me. They fanned me with their life - trying as best as they could to keep me conscious. Their first aid bag had a few balls of cotton wool and a really dated blood pressure measurement thingy bob. So really humanity’s pure will saved me that day.

I’m home now, anyway. And that’s all that matters. 

Kenya really is home. It’s been like biting into a mango on a warm sunny day - seeing all my old friends, that is. We still giggle and laugh. It’s like I never left. We still talk for hours about love and boys and work and careers and who’s doing what, where and how. 

Kenya has hugged me. I was in need of a hug. I’ve had the warmest, most genuine conversations with everyone - from other public personalities and creatives to just recently the Managing Director at an elite firm in Sarit Centre, who let me share his home-made lunch with him. 

There’s something truly magical about Africa. About Kenya. And yes, I do mean to be somewhat essentialist. Those novels that captured dreamy tropical Africa did have some truth to them. Africa, Kenya…there’s a warmth amongst our people that “developed” countries will never ever have. I’ve been there, lived there and I know. After all “development,” will never keep you warm at night. People and relationships will. 

Kenya I’m home. I missed you but after 9 years of fleeting travel. I’m home. 

I’m home.

Shoes: Backyard shoes

Dress: Vivo Activewear

Bracelets and Ring: H&M

Necklace: Aldo Accessories

Lippie: Kylie Jenner Lip Kit in Kourt K

Love and Sunshine, 

Tabitha.