Part of the Family

Time away from the Mugera family in Nairobi highlighted just how much they viewed me as part of the family. Each time I would return from being away a couple days, everyone seemed genuinely excited to see me, making me feel as part of the family. Even the maids were glad to see me and gave me huge hugs. It was quite touching. It was also quite chaotic being back at home with three children under the age of 10. Angel (the 4 yr old) named her doll Obama in my absence. Manu (the 9 yr old) kept threatening the cat who would in turn cling to my skirt, sensing its impending doom in Manu’s shadows. When he bored of cat-traumatising, he would resort to throwing Angel’s doll (Obama) across the room, making her scream (mainly Angel but also the doll who could also laugh, cry, and wet itself). When things would die down, everyone would spend time teaching me the dances of different Kenyan tribes by imitating the music videos. I surprised them when they learned I could actually dance. While I might be black, I’m still referred to as a Mizungo (white person) and I’m labeled with all the stereotypes of white people. The maids also taught me how to make chapathi, which I ate daily in India, and they were patient with me as I finally got the dough to behave right.

Thomas insisted that I was his daughter and refused to let me pay for anything during my time there, even when Nakuru national park charged me a whopping $65 as a foreigner while residents are only charged $12. There was no arguing with him, leaving me both touched by what it meant as a member of the family but also upset that he would spend such a large sum of money on me. But this is African hospitality at its finest, and the generosity I received in Nairobi would be extended to Mombasa, and all over Tanzania as well.