I could tell you about the taste of fresh avocados and Ribena, the sandy beaches of Mombasa and the colors of the Indian Ocean, the monkeys sneaking into our garden to get their fill of bananas, about our countless safaris, about riding horses and on one rhino's back (yes, really!), I could tell you about a lake covered with pink-flamingos, about the elephants I always adored, and all the happiness Kenya gave the blessed child I was.
But my heart shrinks, as the news bring daily updates on the violence in Kenya, and I can only think of the faces of people I loved. First and foremost, my nanny Jane's beautiful smile, as I tasted maize meal in her room. The handsome, aloof Masai in his traditional jewelry, who accepted to pose for a picture with my sister and me. My parents' Sikh acquaintances, who invited us to curry dinners at their homes - and that Sikh man I saw one morning, tying his sumptuous hair before he put on his turban. And Joseph, and Francis, the familiar and comforting figures who made home, home. I hope they are all safe.
To learn about Africa, its plights and its success stories, and above all its people, check out Afropolitans, where Beverly links to articles from the international press and many online resources.