The Myth of Seamless Homecoming
I returned to Kenya with part of my life packed in three suitcases, a Master’s degree, a full heart filled with misakes and memories, in a pink T-shirt with a screaming yellow inscription, ' Take a Break '. I am due for a post on why this inscription means so much to anyone in the hustle of living abroad. It was an intentional outward outfit, as I internally held on to the persistent, confident belief that east or west, home is best! After all, I had not been gone thaaaat long. I still speak Swahili fluently. I know the inside jokes. I am a pro at negotiating matatu fares at the stage before boarding. I understand the nuanced queues (or lack thereof), and I can smell sukuma wiki ( kales ) with my eyes closed. Additionally, before my grand return, I had come home twice during graduate school ( notice I am not saying "visit, " as I am surely not a visitor ). What could possibly go wrong? Returnees as mildly confused anthropo...