#ObamaInKenya

Karibu Kenya: Billboards in Nairobi welcome the US President

If you drove to Nairobi’s Imax to catch a Friday night flick, you would have been sorely disappointed. The only entertainment at the city’s flagship 3D cinema was a couple of bemused security officials explaining that all showings had been scrapped. The deserted streets on the way back home to Parklands were reminiscent of Christmas Day when festivities keep a whole population indoors with their families.

But it’s July. No, Ebola has not spread. No, there has not been a terror alert. Yes this is part of the Obama fever that has struck the capital. The city’s newly-spruced streets are being shut down a section at a time to accommodate the US President’s schedule during his three-day visit.

While all eyes are on the country during President Obama’s inaugural visit to his fatherland, former CNN anchor Zain Verjee urged bloggers and tweeters to share their Kenya story (more here). So this is my take, as an expat.

I’m from London, England, where the jam-packed tube at peak time contains mainly people on their commute home from well-paid jobs looking like they’ve had their worst day yet. Heads buried in Kindles and backs arched over mobile phones. It’s a mass of tired eyes and sore shoulders belonging to a sea of strangers that want nothing more than to avoid each other until they can burst through their front doors to put their feet up with a hot meal, head out with friends or continue work from home.

On arrival in Nairobi two years ago, I was surprised that people at the Kwangware slum near where I lived, in contrast, looked like they were having their best day yet and had plenty of time on their hands. They seemed unscathed by poverty and instead of a sombre mood reflective of hard times, there was music and a buzz of conversation. The burdens of slum life couldn’t be seen. They sat calmly, walked home in pairs or stopped to talk to neighbours.

This is a facet of warmth, generosity and resilience of Kenyans that has embraced me everyday. A cab driver came supermarket shopping with me, a Boda Boda guy said I could pay him later because I had left my purse at home. Colleagues offered to share their lunch with me daily, no matter how small their portions. Passersby would walk me to my destination instead of giving me directions. A smile was never withheld, whether in the street, in the shops or in my compound at home. People kept me safe in danger zones and tough situations. Time was never money. Time was simply time. For the most part there was no agenda. It was normal.

One colleague said to me: “Sharing food is better than eating alone, because when you have less, each mouthful tastes better.” Through my Western eyes, this could only fill up my spirit more than any meal was capable of doing. Spirit is what I found in Nairobi, it was infectious and could not be contained. The only days it wasn’t there were when my eyes were shut. And with generosity came resilience in the face of poverty, in the face of terror and even in the face of death.

Kenyans are strong. They are generous. They are warm. A proud legacy for a president.