EssayStoryJournalBook reviewReflectionResearchLetterPoemMemoir762 words4 min readAutosave enabled“So how have you been?” she asked, “I heard from your mum that you got yourself a green card. I am so happy for you” she added. She almost choked; she had not expected the nun to have been told of the news already. She then thought of how many more people her mum could have told already within the short time span, had to be the all village really considering how outspoken and widely known her mum was compared to her dad who was more reserved just like her. Her mum was known by almost everyone around home to be talkative, and given her daughter had received a US citizenship meant that everyone got to know as she made sure everyone she happened to talk to over the phone would be told of the news, even those who had no idea she had a daughter or didn’t care to know. “Yea I did, and I couldn’t be happier. I just didn’t expect my mum to have told you already” she said feeling proud of herself and achievements. “So from a neutral point of view, what happens if the new place does not turn out as expected?” she asked turning slightly so she could look Martha in the face. “I don’t know, I mean America can’t be worse than Nairobi”, she answered slowly trying to probably convince the nun that America had to be better and at the same time convince herself. At that moment she felt like she was going to throw up, how could someone from the UK question the preference of the US over Nairobi, a city in a developing economy. Clearly opportunities had to be more there. Sister Patricia definitely has no idea how hard life in Nairobi could be given that in the convent they were provided for everything they may ever need thus didn’t see the need for a good job and salary, Martha thought. After a long chit-chat Martha felt exhausted and asked to leave. After Sister Patricia had gone back to the convent, she could not help thinking about what she had said. The nun had asked a simple question. It was a simple question, but it consumed her thoughts that evening, kept her lying awake most of the night, and was the only thing she dreamed about with the little sleep she managed. Only one person could give her the answer she needed, and that person was herself. It was Friday, and she had set a date with Keisha that evening and she was not going to miss it for the world. She made a point of doing cleaning around the house before leaving for town later to catch a coffee with her best friend at her favourite café, the Gibson’s, along Moi avenue just opposite the famous Nation Centre. After doing the general cleaning, she took a shower and wore her favourite black pencil pants, a black sleeveless top beneath a light blue boyfriend coat and animal print ankle boots. She was in utmost love with casual wear. She then made her way out locking the door behind her as she took along with her the full trash can intending to drop it outside the gate to be emptied by the trash lorry that would be passing by the estate in an hour’s time. The walk to stage was shortened by a matatu that for once was making its way through the estate with the conductor in maroon uniform shouting “hamsini tao, hamsini tao. Madam unaenda?” he asked, to which she nodded as she made her way inside towards the seat just behind the driver’s seat. Before she could make herself confortable, the matatu was already on the move and she had to hold on the next seat for support to avoid being thrown off-balance, typical of Nairobi matatus. Glancing at her watch, it was already three o’clock. Moments later the phone was buzzing, it was Keisha’s text inquiring if she had left the house yet, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect she thought. The speakers in the vehicle were now at full blast and all she could hear was her all body trembling to the rhythm of Meghan Trainor’s ‘Dear Future Husband’ song and her ears screaming for silence. She kept staring at the screen behind the driver’s seat screen showing the video of the song, not that she could avoid as the screen was right in front of her face and nothing to see out of the window other than the usual same old buildings along the Jogoo road.