Not the big, life-altering kind.
The small, sneaks-up-on-you-and-makes-you-smile kind.
Feeding Coco her very first bottle,
trying to look like I know what I’m doing. (She remains unconvinced but hopeful.)
Changing her poopie diaper…
and realizing some skills do not age like fine wine. There was hesitation. There was strategy. There may have been a brief prayer, but I did it!
The sound of rain – and that intoxicating smell of earth rising up like, “Welcome back, we’ve missed you.”
Watching Nagib sing “You Are My Sunshine” – and Coco politely enduring his full concert.
Being recognized after 54 years –
“Are you Munira Kurji from bottom right?” Honestly… I was impressed I still looked like bottom right from the Mombasa hostel.
Cousins who send food without warning – because in our family, “Have you eaten?” is basically a love language.
Vanilla café latte.
Fresh lemonade.
Mint and pineapple juice.
Coconut water.
Maru bhajia.
Sitafar (custard apple).
(At this point, I’m just eating my way through Nairobi. Zero regrets.)
Cheap Ubers, and drivers who give you a full economic, political, and cultural analysis of Kenya
before you reach your destination.
(Some of them should honestly be running the country.)
When Mos says,
“Thank you to Allah – and Nima – for the food!!!” I didn’t see that promotion coming, but I’ll take it.
Coco’s button nose. Her long eyelashes. Those big, theatrical yawns like she’s just finished a long day at the office.
Time – real, unhurried time –
with Shayne, Cherrelle, Sabrina, Afzal and all the little humans who have completely stolen the show.
And my Swahili – coming back almost immediately, like: “Oh good, you’re back. Took you long enough.”
Gratitude, it turns out,
isn’t one big, profound feeling.
It’s a hundred tiny moments
that quietly whisper:
Life is actually pretty good right now.
