👋 The Smallest Gesture That Completely Changed My Morning.

There’s a unique, bustling energy to public transport in Kenya, particularly when riding a matatu. For those unfamiliar, a matatu is our vibrant, often colorfully decorated, shared ride—a true heartbeat of local travel.

As a naturally shy person, I tend to keep to myself during my commute. I aim for minimal attention, preferring to observe the world outside the window rather than engage. This morning, however, that quiet routine was delightfully interrupted by one of the young men who manage the flow of traffic and passengers at the bus stage—the guys locally known as manamba or conductors.

The Unexpected Hello

I was settled in my seat, minding my own business, when I noticed a familiar face. It was one of the bus-stage managers I often see. He came right up to the window, leaning in slightly, his face radiating an incredibly broad, warm smile.

"Hello! Good morning!" he greeted me, with a joyful volume that was completely disarming.

I was genuinely humbled. I hadn't even realized he was near, and his recognition and genuine warmth caught me completely off guard. All I could do was drop my usual shyness for a second and return an equally big, broad smile, offering a heartfelt "Hello!" back.

The Power of Acknowledgment

It was just a few seconds, but that single, genuine greeting made my entire morning. In the rush of a busy city, it's easy to feel invisible, especially when you prefer to blend into the background. His simple act of kindness—of truly seeing me—was a powerful reminder of human connection.

It got me thinking:

How often do we miss opportunities to share a moment of genuine warmth with a stranger?

Imagine how different the world would feel if we all deliberately sought to offer such a generous, kind greeting.

Go Out and Make Someone's Day

That young man, simply by hanging on the window with a smile, delivered a powerful dose of unexpected joy. His energy was infectious, and it’s a feeling I want to pay forward.

We all have the power to influence someone else’s day for the better. It doesn't require a grand gesture—just a sincere smile, a warm, unhurried greeting, or a moment of true acknowledgement.

Let’s go out there today and consciously make someone’s day brighter. You never know how much that little moment of connection might mean to them.

When Caring Feels Like a Burden 💔

Today, I learned something that broke my heart into pieces.

A friend shared some wonderful news about a mutual friend, and I was genuinely excited. Because I’m usually the one who reaches out, I thought, *“Why not say hello?”*—without mentioning that I already knew the news.

But not long after, the person the news was about called me, upset. Somehow, they had sensed that I knew. And in that moment, something deeper came out: the realization that every time I reached out, something bad supposedly happened to them. Almost as if I was a *jinx*.

Hearing that truth—paired with the reminder that I *am always the one reaching out*—hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart shattered into a million pieces. 💔

Because if I look back honestly, I have always been there. Through thick and thin. I reached out even when I had nothing to give. I kept showing up even when I lost my job. I stayed connected even when I lost my mum—and even then, not a single phone call came my way. Not even from the one calling me a jinx.

I was alone. Carrying grief. Carrying struggle. Carrying friendships that didn’t seem to carry me back.

And yet, here I am again, reminded of that very raw feeling: when you’re the one who always checks in, always keeps the thread alive… and then you stop to wonder—

*Is this mutual? Or is it just me?*

The truth is, being thoughtful and caring is part of who I am. It’s in my nature to reach out. But I’m also learning that it’s okay to step back. To let the silence reveal who cares enough to reach for me, when I’m not the one extending my hand.

Because friendship is meant to be a two-way street. Not one person carrying the weight of keeping it alive.

Recently, someone asked me: *“Do you even have friends?”* And that question stung. But maybe it’s not about quantity. Maybe it’s about those who show up, truly, without excuses. Sometimes people don’t see the quiet ways you give—but that doesn’t mean you’re alone. There are still moments of kindness I can remember. Times when others did show up.

But today, I also learned this: trying to keep in touch shouldn’t feel like a burden. It shouldn’t leave me questioning my worth. If my care is seen as a curse, then it’s okay—more than okay—for me to mind my own business, to preserve my heart, and to let go with peace.

Because love, friendship, and care should be mutual. And anything less is not worth breaking my heart over again and again. 🌿

Walking Away to Peace ✨

Over the years, I loved planning, inviting people over, and opening my doors with warmth. I even traveled to new towns just to see friends, always carrying excitement in my heart. Funny enough, none of them ever came to see me where I was. The excuse was always simple: “You’re single, you can travel.”

I didn’t mind. Truly, I was happy to spend my time, money, and resources just to keep the tradition alive. Even after losing my job, I sometimes went into debt just to maintain these friendships. It made me happy—until it didn’t.

When I fell on hard times, no one came to my aid. Not even a glance my way. And still, they expected me to go to them. That’s when I felt the sting of bitterness, questioning the motives behind our so-called friendship.

Later, I took time to reflect on myself, my actions, and my relationships. I realized that some friends had completely cut me out. It hurt, yes—but maybe I was just a convenience. Maybe I provided company, and when I couldn’t anymore, I was discarded. Should I do the same? Should I also let go of people who pressured me to give what they never reciprocated?

Excuses piled up over the years:

• “Now I’m married, I can’t travel.”

• “I have a family, it’s too hectic.”
  Yet these same people would travel away from their families when it suited them. Or complain about how exhausting a trip was—after denying me even one hour for coffee in the same town.

How would you feel if you were in my shoes? Would you say that was fair? Is such a relationship worth keeping?

For me, the answer lies in the golden rule: Do unto others what you would want done unto you.

So today, I choose to walk away. No bitterness. No looking back. I’ll move on without you, because being in a relationship all by myself is not really a relationship at all. Instead, I’ll live, enjoy, and find peace in my own company.

And that—perhaps—is the greatest friendship I could ever nurture. 🌿?