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Of Reunions and Family...with a little splash of rain


The last four days have been nothing short of eventful—a whirlwind of travel, baby cuddles, and family reunions that left my heart full and my legs aching (public transport is no joke). It was the kind of trip where you blink, and suddenly it’s over, leaving you with a mix of exhaustion and gratitude.  

It started on Thursday when we (me, my mum, my sister and my daughter, Jahzara) embarked on a journey to Nakuru, specifically Lanet. We were off to visit my auntie, Small Mama, who had just welcomed her youngest baby, Baby G. It had been four long years since my mum was in Nakuru, so you can imagine how much was riding on this visit.  

Small Mama’s home was the first stop, and the vibe was electric. Baby G was the star of the show, her tiny coos and newborn sweetness pulling all of us in like magnets. There’s something about holding a newborn that makes everything else fade away—even the chaos of wrangling two kids on public transport.  

Speaking of the kids, Vicky, Jahzara and Baby E (Small Mama’s eldest daughter and my namesake) wasted no time bonding. The moment we stepped in, they were off, giggling and playing like they’d known each other forever, and soon the house was filled with the kind of joyful noise only children can create.  
But as much as the kids were having the time of their lives, our visit wasn’t without its share of challenges. On Saturday, it was time to leave for the second part of our trip: picking up my brother from school. He’d just finished his KCSE (Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education), and we couldn’t wait to celebrate this huge milestone with him. However, Baby E was not having it.  “Why do you have to go?” she asked, her little face scrunched up in disappointment. “Can’t you come back tomorrow?”  Explaining the concept of school pickups and exams to a six-year-old is as futile as trying to stay clean while eating a mango. So, with promises of returning soon and some quick goodbyes, we left for the next adventure.  

After a bumpy matatu ride and a bit of waiting, we finally picked up my brother. Seeing him walk out, box and bag in hand and relief written all over his face, made the trip worth it. He was done—no more school uniforms, no more endless study sessions(until he goes to uni). It felt like a chapter closing, and we were all there to celebrate it.  

And then came the rain.  

In my family, rain isn’t just weather—it’s a blessing. So when the heavens opened up as we were heading back, it felt like the universe was saying, "You’re on the right path. This is just another beginning" Sure, we got drenched (umbrellas? Who carries those?), but it added an unexpected charm to the day. Something is humbling about being rained on while surrounded by family—it reminds you that life’s messiness is often where the beauty lies.  

The final stop was Grandma’s house. Now, let me tell you about my grandma. She’s not exactly the “warm and fuzzy” type. Visits to her home are usually cordial but reserved. So imagine my surprise when we walked in and were greeted with a warmth that felt... new. Grandma was welcoming in a way I hadn’t seen in years, and it caught me completely off guard—in the best way possible. 

We spent the evening laughing, talking, and catching up. My sister and Jahzara kept everyone entertained with their antics, while my brother and I shared stories about our time apart. And then, the highlight: I saw Grandma happy. Her face lit up. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her like that, and it was everything. In that moment, the years of distance and formality melted away, leaving just love and connection.  

By Sunday morning, the reality of heading back home loomed over us, but the memories of the past few days softened the blow. Jahzara, of course, wasn’t ready to leave. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t ready either. But life calls, routines beckon, and matatus don’t wait for sentimental goodbyes. So, with hugs all around and promises to visit again soon, we packed up and left.  

As I sit here now, reflecting on everything, I’m struck by how much can happen in just a few days. This trip wasn’t just about visiting Small Mama or celebrating my brother—it was about reconnecting, healing, and finding joy in the little things. It was about being rained on and laughing through it, about kids playing and cousins bonding, about Grandma laughing and Mum finally coming back after four years.  

It was messy and chaotic and beautiful.  

And as much as I’m grateful to be back home, I can’t help but look forward to the next time we get to do it all over again. Because if there’s one thing this trip taught me, it’s that family—however imperfect—is worth every bumpy ride, every drenched jacket, and every teary goodbye.  
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