I miss my fancy hat. But the manager at my hotel more than covers for my fancy hat. He is fancy. He has this fancy hairstyle that I cannot achieve even when I rock bantu knot outs. His edges are laid smoothly. Licked back like a new born baby. Ecostyler gel has nothing on him. I might ask what he uses. He had this red skinny jeans, a black shirt and a leopard print blazer. He was slaying. When I first saw him from the back I had assumed it was a lady. He moved his hands in a swishy way the way Kim Kardashian carries her purse. I like staring at men’s asses. He has an ass…  or an illusion of one. He would give me a run for my money. I even look at women’s bums. I don’t drool at them though I just appreciate and move on. I don’t necessarily love men with ass but I just can’t stop looking. It makes up for my tiny bum or lack thereof.

This manager also looked like he had gone to Nairobi’s River Road and met those women who hang around Mombasa house. You know those that will look at you from five miles away and tell you, “Madam, kuja nikuonyeshe dawa ya hizo spots”. She is talking about a cheap skin lightening formula that will leave you looking like fire licked you as you passed over. His knuckles were black as coal and his lips are bordering the colour of hibiscus flower.

I loved his attitude though. He was more bubbly than champagne. When he stretched his hand to shake mine I feared I would tear his skin. It looked sensitive. When I touched it, I imagined it’s how Vera Sidika feels in her rather sensitive skin. I checked in at 7:00am and as he walked me to my room, I had just one question. Not that I care but I was too curious. I would have asked about the kind of humans he’s attracted to. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

I left to visit my colleague’s pal after a much needed rest. We rode a nduthi and I complained all the way. Motorbikes driven by other people aren’t my thing. I still plan to buy a bike and give people rides. How is that for a goal? We took a cab on our way back because I am chicken. The motor bikes in this town surpass the human population. I hope I am not knocked by any as I run across the streets.

I am meeting happy people on this trip. I am not sad or anything. Just that my happiness doesn’t seep through my skin like the sunshine. There is this single mother girl with two kids who lives in a single room. She shares her bed with the two kids. All her worldly possessions fit in this room. She asked my colleague why he let me stay at a hotel and not stay with her for the whole time I will be in Kisii. Her entire house can fit into my hotel room – with space to spare. She still expects me to go stay with her and keeps calling to ask why I haven’t moved in yet. Most times I don’t know what to say I just smile and digress. When I saw her house and what she has to deal with, all my problems felt lighter. I still have problems and they are mine but she has taught me one thing. Be content with whatever little you have at the moment. She has this old laptop that doesn’t have volume, but she put a movie to entertain us. She even went to her neighbor to borrow a VGA cable to connect the laptop to her woofer or is it subwoofer to ensure our maximum comfort.

Her sister had visited with her baby. She refused to let them leave after 7:00pm.They would spend the night in this single room. Appreciate whatever little you have and be thankful every day. I used to think “gaki” is a form of greeting. Now I know better. Greetings in Kisii could be, “bwakire”. To which you respond with “bwakire buya”.

As I went back to my hotel room the manager was walking out with a fan in hand and an open shirt, “naenda kupunga hewa’ he said. His fancy makes up for any gloomy moment I might have. My happiness metric is very high for the next two weeks. I will always think about him and smile.

He's fancy