Mama Boooooga! Mama Boooooooga! Na taka nee nee? Iko dizi, biyazze, nya-nya, daaniya…
Mama vegetable (is here)! What do you want? I have bananas, potatoes, tomatoes, coriander…
Her shouts from downstairs wake me easily from a light morning sleep. I spent my first night in Nairobi listening to bats squeaking at the windows, and desperately trying to find a comfortable bed corner. Eryn is in unfamiliar surroundings, so she’s sleeping with us at the moment. But since she’s a bed hog (as is the Hubby) this means she gets the prized (and most comfortable) centre bed position, while I’m stuck using my arm as a pillow and balancing my butt off the edge of a sagging mattress.
I get up, grab the baby who has already been playing with Hubby’s nose, lips and eyelids for 10 minutes, throw on my hijab and walk downstairs to greet the vegetable seller.
Jambo, habari yako? Hi, how are you?
Mzuri sana. Good thanks.
My aunt and MIL jump in to bargain for green chillies, onions, leeks, cucumbers and tomatoes. We buy the lot for just $4.