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Not far from Zara and Pauline, Tilly was at a lunch outing of her own. She was treating her friend, John Waweru, to lunch for helping her and Pauline at the animal shelter. She let him pick the location and he chose River Café, a popular venue. The food was top notch, but the real draw was the atmosphere. Located on the Limuru gate side of Karura Forest, the open-air restaurant could fool you into thinking you were miles outside of Nairobi.
Once, the forest had been a hangout for criminals and a dumping ground for dead bodies. At one point, a corpse was found every two weeks. No one dared to go into the forest unless he or she was eager to be attacked or mugged. All of that started to change in 2005 with the Kenya Forests Act and the creation of Friends of Karura Forest. Within five years, Friends of Karura Forest transformed the once-dangerous forest into a beautiful conservation site.
Tilly could hardly believe Karura could have ever been anything other than the Eden it was today—and today was a good example of how much people enjoyed the forest. River Café was full. There were local families, expats hosting visitors from their home countries, businesspeople taking a long lunch, and mountain bikers taking a break after riding through the forest trails. Despite how busy it was midweek at lunchtime, Tilly had managed to get a table along the side of the café with a view looking right into the trees.
“I’m glad you picked this,” Tilly said to John after the waiter took their order. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“I like River Café too, and I know you love Karura.”
“I do. I’m usually on the smaller, Sigiria side, but I love all of Karura. I can’t imagine not having all this nature so close by. I come here a few times a week, you know. God, I love Nairobi! I mean, you can have it all between the outdoors, and culture, and the best weather.”
“I know!” John said with a laugh. “I’m Nairobi born and raised. You don’t have to sell it to me. Why do you think Kate and I moved back here after Amsterdam?”
“And I love this place,” Tilly continued talking as if John hadn’t spoken. “The food is amazing.”
“Indeed! Thank you for this. It’s a lovely treat, but not necessary.”
“No, you deserve this. It’s the least I can do. You got us out of a tight bind the other day.”
“Why don’t you just get a volunteer permit? You can go to the animal shelter or wherever else you want, as much as you want.”
“I don’t know,” Tilly said, staring into the forest. “Permits are a lot of work. Besides, if I were to do something I would want an actual work permit. Pauline, the friend who was with me at the shelter, gave me the idea of turning my blog into a business.”
“So, do that.”
“It’s such a hassle,” she said, shifting her gaze back to John.
“Hassle? Not at all.” He shook his head. “I can help you through the process.”
The waiter came by with their drinks and John took a sip of his limeade.
“We should talk about this more,” he said. “Give me a business proposal. I can work it into the application. There is a kind of consulting umbrella permit that you can get.”
“Is it like the Special Pass, the temporary thing, people sometimes get?” Work authorization in Kenya was the one area where Tilly was not an expert.
“No, this is a longer-term work permit and visa. It would allow you to have your own business. There are details, of course. We’ll need to see what Dave’s permit is and make sure you’re not prohibited from working. But I think it should be fine. You guys aren’t embassy diplomats. Your current dependent visa doesn’t bar you from working. It could take a few months to finalize but it’s completely possible.”
“I know you’re right, but is it worth it? We would go through mountains of paperwork, and for what? Who knows how long we’ll stay here.”
John choked on his limeade as he laughed. After a few minutes of coughing followed by more laughing, he finally settled down. With an incredulous look on his face, he spoke. “Tilly, you’ve been here for ten years.”
“Nine.”
“Close enough. I don’t see you guys leaving anytime soon, if at all. Talk to Dave. Think about it. But, come on. Don’t make the excuse about leaving Kenya. You’re not a mzungu anymore.”
A Swahili word originally meaning a lost person, mzungu was a slightly derogatory, but more tongue-in-cheek term for an expat. Dave had a t-shirt with the word printed on it. It was meant as a gag gift, from John of all people, but it had become Dave’s favorite.
“Is that so? I’m no longer a mzungu?” Tilly couldn’t keep from smirking.
He laughed. “Okay, maybe you still are. But you’re not an outsider anymore. I would say you are practically a fellow Kenyan. Think it over seriously. This idea is something you can monetize.”
“Did you just learn that word?” Tilly teased him.
“Please,” John said, pretending to be offended. He then looked around as if to check if anyone was listening and whispered, “You know, Kate loves your blog. And you know how she hates everything! A lot of Kenyans find it useful, not only expats.”
Tilly beamed at the compliment. Kate, John’s wife, was finicky and didn’t like most of what she saw. She certainly didn’t care for mzungus pretending to be experts about Kenya. For her to like Tilly’s blog meant something. Given Kate’s wide social circle, that could be a powerful endorsement. Also, John had a point. There weren’t any solid plans to leave. They probably would be in Kenya for at least another two or three years. She found herself more excited than she had been in ages. I can do this, she thought. This could be a real thing.
#
Two days later, Tilly was puttering her Defender through the Good News Nyeri Estate off Red Hill Road. The stately houses were coveted and rarely became available. Through the expat grapevine—the kids’ school, friends, and the gym—she had heard of four houses that would soon be put on the market for rent. She had offered to take her newcomer friend Lauren to see each of them before the rest of Nairobi would learn of their availability. Three houses in, Lauren, while grateful, was getting frustrated.
“I can’t believe that last guy lied about the borehole,” Lauren said. “I liked that house a lot. I would have gone forward with it if you didn’t ask to see the damn thing. I would have wound up with no backup water! I feel like such an idiot.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. We had no idea what to ask when we moved here. We didn’t know what to look for, what to check, or anything. Our first house was a disaster. We had leaks, electrical issues, and a terrible landlord. God, it was such a mess! Believe me, you are not an idiot. You’re new, and everything is unfamiliar to you. Trust me, once you get over the initial hurdles, you’ll fall in love with Nairobi.”
“I still feel kind of stupid. Look! That’s number 219.”
Tilly honked—or rather, hooted, as they said in Kenya—and an askari opened the gate to let them in. She pulled into a spacious driveway and got out of the vehicle. Within seconds they were greeted by a real estate agent.
“Hello! I’m Njeri. It’s very nice to meet you in person. You know, you are the first to see this house,” she said. Then, with a slight roll in her r, she added, “You really got the scoop!”
“Hi, I’m Tilly. This is Lauren. She’s the one interested in the house.”
“Great! Let’s get right to it then. Let me show you the house. We can start upstairs and then work our way down.”
They followed the agent through the house, going through every room and asking questions. Nothing the agent said set off any alarm bells for Tilly. She examined every inch of the upstairs and it all seemed fine.
The houses they saw earlier had all been beautiful, as many houses in Nairobi are. They had all also been duds, as a lot of houses in Nairobi potentially were. One had mold and a massive termite problem. Another didn’t have a proper compound wall—only hedges—and that would be a problem for Lauren’s dog, not to mention a security liability. The last one, with no borehole, had no backup water supply. This one could work, she thought as they headed downstairs.
The downstairs part of the house was also in solid shape. Tilly found nothing wrong. This house had none of the problems the other houses had. On top of that, all the flooring was intact, without any weak floorboards. The walls and ceilings were clean, with no discoloration to indicate leaks.
The house was older, which meant it was sturdily built. It was also well maintained, which was a good sign. A landlord who cared about his or her property was what you wanted in Nairobi. He or she would be responsive to tenant needs. This house had strong potential.
“How do you like the house so far?” the agent asked Lauren.
“So far, I love it! Can we see the borehole?” Lauren was a fast learner.
They checked out the garden, seeing proof of the underground water tank, and examining the outside of the house. Everything looked intact, with no termite mounds or any exterior damage. Tilly was pleased with the property. There was one last question to ask. Tilly, having coached her on how to go about it, signaled for Lauren to ask the final question.
“Talk to me about backup power,” Lauren said.
“That is not a problem,” the agent said.
“Is it a generator or an inverter?”
“We rarely have outages here. You won’t need it.”
“Hang on,” Tilly said.
“Truly!” the agent insisted. “Most people here—”
Tilly shot her a look that would have stopped a charging rhino in its tracks. In a tone usually reserved for her sons when she was disappointed, she spoke to the agent. “Come on, Njeri. I know you want to rent this house, and we like this house. We do! Truly! But listen, I’ve lived in Nairobi for close to ten years. Don’t talk to me like I’m a mzungu.”
“Well, I—”
Tilly cocked up an eyebrow, silencing the agent. She shook her head to express more disappointment. “Look, talk to the landlord. Please. See if we can get back up power, and what kind. We’ll be happy to talk once you have that information for us. This can work out if you talk to the landlord.
“You know other people will want the same thing we’re asking about. Ask now and he, or she, can have this house rented out sooner. There’s no point in it staying empty longer than it has to.”
“Okay. I can ask.” Njeri acquiesced. Her reluctance was tempered by her desire to close the deal. Landlords could, and sometimes did, leave houses empty for years. Real estate agents did not have the luxury of passing up deals and thus losing their commissions.
“Let’s go,” Lauren said.
As they drove out of the compound, Tilly decided to give Lauren a pep talk. “Hey, don’t get discouraged. We have three houses tomorrow and this last one could still work out. The agent was pushing the deal. They all do that. It’s their job. The landlord might agree to put in backup power. It’s not uncommon. You have to ask and push a bit, but landlords can come through.”
“I know. It’s exhausting, that’s all. By the way, when can I expect to adjust to the altitude? I get tired from the littlest thing. Even going up a flight of stairs tires me out.”
“It takes about six months for your lungs to fully acclimate to the thin air. You’ll start to notice a difference before then. It does get easier. I promise.
“Listen, we’re done for the day. I need to go pick up the boys, otherwise, I’d suggest we treat ourselves to a drink. We had a busy day.”
“A drink would help. Let’s do that tomorrow, after we do all this again.” Lauren let out a deep sigh. She wriggled in her seat. “Does this thing lean back at all?”
“It only goes forward and back.”
Lauren sighed again. “I’m never going to be able to do all of this. Getting the house is only the beginning, isn’t it?”
Tilly glanced at Lauren, who had withered from the day’s effort. Her expression was worn. Slumped to the side with her eyes closed, she looked fatigued.
“You know, I can help you with all of this house stuff,” Tilly said. “You don’t need to do it all alone. Let me share what I know. Besides, I like helping people.”
“I can’t ask you to do all that. You’ve already done so much. By the way, thank you for the tip about using filtered water for the final rinse when I wash my hair. It’s back to normal. With any luck, Nadine will be less snarky to me now.”
“You’re welcome. It looks nice. As for Nadine, don’t give her any importance. She’s snarky with everyone,” Tilly said as she noticed Lauren’s hair, which now fell in smooth, shiny, ginger waves. “And you’re not asking me for help. I’m offering it. Do you need help finding vehicles? I can also help you with that, especially if you want something like this baby. You don’t get to drive like this anywhere else.”
“You can charge people for this.”
“Funny you should say that. I’ve been thinking about doing this as a business. If you’re up for it, maybe you can help me figure out what services to offer, pricing, and other stuff like that? That is, if I decide to go through with starting a business.”
“I would love to. It’s more than a fair exchange. You’re like a fairy godmother. I can’t imagine doing all this on my own. You know, sometimes I’m so jealous of the embassy people. They get everything set up for them!”
“They do, but they get no say in it. They have to take any house or apartment they’re given. Think of it this way, you get to choose what you want. If there’s one thing Nairobi has, it’s a wide array of options. Sure, there are problems, but they come with a huge selection of solutions. You can manage things any way you want for day-to-day life.”
“Eventually, sure. Right now, I don’t even know where to start. It’s like we were dropped off here and then left to fend for ourselves. If I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t have anyone to help me. I don’t know how anything’s done here!”
She’s right about that. We’re all babes in the woods when we land here. There’s no reason why I can’t be the one who guides the newbies, she said to herself. She thought about the day’s outing with Lauren. Tilly was adding enough value to charge for her help. On top of that, she was enjoying the work. I’m good at this. I can make this happen.
#
Late that night, Tilly sat at the dining table with her laptop open. The long table, made from the wood of old dhow sailing boats, could comfortably seat twelve. Her family used it mostly for entertaining, be it formal dinners or casual get-togethers. Tonight, it was her desk and every inch was covered with papers. She had combed through her blog, taking pages and pages of notes.
She was starting to put together a plan. Her blog had posts that guided people through things like choosing schools, hiring house help, renewing drivers’ licenses, different methods of backup electricity, and more. These posts had heavier traffic than Tilly had expected. At first, this surprised her, but that surprise wore off after doing some research. No one else covered those topics. If someone wanted information on the day-to-day aspects of life, she was the go-to source. In fact, she was the only source. She had a strong foothold in this area.
There was definitely a business idea here. Her day out with Lauren convinced her of this. She could expand her blog into a service where she took on private clients, helping each one settle into Nairobi. There was even an opportunity in helping people when it was time for them to leave Kenya. International moves were a nightmare on both ends. She might be able to build a team if the demand was high enough. Given the flood of expats both coming in and leaving at the beginning and end of each school year and right after Christmas, hiring a team was a possibility. She would at least need an office assistant.
She caught herself yawning. She glanced at her watch and saw it was nearly midnight. At that moment, Dave came home from a long day out.
“You’re up late,” he said, joining her at the table.
“I’m working on something,” she said, yawning again. “I’m getting into it. I lost track of time.”
“That’s great! You haven’t had a juicy project in a while.”
“I know, and this could be something good. It’s a business plan I’m building off my blog.” Tilly started to talk about her idea but then noticed how tired Dave was. “I can tell you about it tomorrow. How are you? You’ve had some long days these last few weeks.”
“I’m all right. Things will be busy for a little longer but then it’ll all ease back to normal.”
“Do you still want to do the barbecue? It’s not too late to cancel it.”
“I most definitely want to do it.” He perked up a bit. “It’s my light at the end of the tunnel. Hey, should we do a theme? It’s on St. Patrick’s Day weekend.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Oh, by the way, I want to talk to you about something before the barbecue, but not tonight. I’m too exhausted.”
“Sure, go on up to bed. I’ll join you soon.”
Dave got up to go upstairs. He got as far as the staircase when Tilly stopped him. “Wait! Come back!”
He paused and looked at her. He was tired and confused but obeyed her order. Sitting back at the table, he asked, “What’s up?”
“I want to stay.”
“Well, that’s good! I’m glad you’re not leaving me!” He began to laugh, but then grew serious. “Wait...what’s going on? Have you been thinking about this? For how long? Do we need to talk? Shit...I’ve been so busy...Tilly, I’m so sorry...I—“
“No! No! We’re fine. I meant Kenya. I want to stay in Kenya.”
He gave her a puzzled look. “I don’t get it. We’re already in Kenya.”
“Yes, and I want us to stay here. I want to know what you think about that.”
“We always said we’d stay for as long as we’re happy.”
“I know, but what does that mean?”
Dave shrugged. “It means we stay as long as we want. I have no intention to take a new role somewhere else. I like it here. The boys love it here. You seem bored sometimes, but overall happy.”
“I am happy. Yes, bored. But more happy than bored. And I want to stay here.”
“So do I,” he said, kissing the top of her head as he got back up. “We stay.”
Tilly smiled as she watched him go up the stairs. There was her confirmation. They would stay. She loved living in Kenya, even with all of its quirks—or perhaps she loved it because of those quirks. However, this was beyond simply loving a current post. She had also loved Amsterdam and Jakarta, after all. She had a rough start in Singapore but then grew to love it there too. Kenya was different. Here, Tilly had connected with the country.
This sense of belonging was new to her. When they left the US, she and Dave envisioned a globetrotting life. For many of their expatriate years, they did live that way and loved every step of the journey. She never thought about settling in any one place. This relationship with Kenya happened without her noticing it, growing stronger with each passing year. Now, she knew her heart was here. The idea of putting down solid roots in Nairobi thrilled her more than she could have ever imagined.