It Will Be Well :)

21 October 2018

 

Amenge Odo

Cross Roads

Nairobi,

 

Dear Grasshopper,

Oh ye, with so much to learn, I hope you’re well. I’m not here to teach though. I’ll leave that to the poor decisions & strokes of luck embedded in the years that sit between us.

I know you hate spoilers, but I’m going to go against everything we believe in, making this the plot twists of plot twists, i.e. I’m twisting the plot here by revealing our plot twists.

From where you’re standing, parents are parents and friends are friends; two eternally separate concepts that no Venn diagram in the world could possibly allow to co-exist, right?

Wrong. We’re in this foreign, yet not so foreign place where we can talk about almost anything with the folks. So many nights have gone by with laughs, Bailey’s, gossip, the crime channel, investment talk, life coaching & 2 a.m. bed times with Mum. & with Dad, awkward silences are a thing of the past. We recently had an intense conversation about marriage, my future with this Arab guy who skedaddled his way into my heart, amongst other adulting topics. Rest assured though, current affairs & unnecessary roast sessions of the general public continue to have a tight grip on this relationship.

Every single Sunday, religiously (pun intended), you go to church, meet with friends, stare at crushes & dish about it the next day. Subliminally, all through the cycle, you see these families: two parents & a flock of toddlers trying to make it through the 2 hours of mass & the additional hour of fighting off acquaintances & parking lot traffic.

Fast-forward to a couple of years ago, where our prayer life suffered substantially (Don’t worry though, I’m working on it. I promise :) ).  I was more concerned about reminding our Arab counterpart to do his daily prayers, three times a day, than the last time I had a conversation with The Provider of our daily bread. Now, chances of you having little hijabis & their overprotective brothers causing chaos in our home, are higher than ever. An extra, in this movie called life, once told us we’re lost (in our faith). We’re not lost. We’re just in a place we distantly knew existed but never thought we had any business exploring. Not to worry though, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been in your life.

Between heartbreaks, a tonsilectomy, accounting (yeah, Dad won this fight), close brushes with the law (Amanda’s a lawyer now though, so we’ll be fine) & our guardian angel working overtime in lots of sticky situations, your 9 to 5 at a marketing agency is kinda weird but pays alright. The people are excellent, the hours are fluid (well, sort of, we still struggle with sleep & punctuality), the growth is inevitable & your people skills are through the roof & your patience levels are unrivalled (cue Trump voice). You know what though, we’re going to explore this writing gig. You’ll see.

Anyway, remember how Dad used to label all our books M. Odo, & you found yourself a school where the name “Michelle” was as common as a cold in July? Then everyon started calling you Modo, but that quickly changed into Kamodo,  when everyone else started growing & you remained your little compact self. Then in high school, Mashallah, you cashed in on some vertical (&, let’s be honest, horizontal) inches & bounced back to Modo, which has stuck ever since. Well, for now I leave you with…

 

Slightly Older Grasshopper,

Sincerely Yours.

(It will be well :) )

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