Gridlock:
A traffic jam in which a grid of intersecting streets is so completely congested that no vehicular movement is possible.
or
To be in a state or situation in which movement or progress is stopped completely.
The term gridlock describes what a morning or evening looks like in Nairobi. Think DC, New York, or LA traffic. Traffic in Nairobi is 100x worse. Usually caught in said gridlock on my commute home, I find this is the perfect time to observe and reflect. I watch pedestrians speed off hastily to their destinations and drivers stare into oblivion. It’s the time in my day when I have no choice but to face my thoughts.
That’s sort of how this past week felt. A rather pensive week…one filled with both joys and sorrows.
My grandmother passed away a few weeks back. I remember receiving a text from my father who said that she had been really sick and I instantly knew. She was getting old, and it was only a matter of time. Although a biological process, death is something that is still so gripping. There is a certain immortality to your grandparents, who seem to have been around your whole life. You get older, and yet, they seem to stay the same.
Regardless, I found comfort in her passing knowing that she lived such an incredible, long life. She had an amazing marriage, raised too many children, and travelled the world with my boss a** grandfather.
Now, I wish I could sit here and say the same for the passing of Kobe Bryant, his daughter Gianna, and seven others who lost their lives on Sunday. The news was absolutely shattering, and I was an emotional wreck the whole week. Despite not knowing the man and never even seeing him play….like I said, there is a certain immortality to people who have been in your life, your whole life. There was a tweet I saw on the day of his passing that commented on how he was just starting his second career as a dedicated father and retired player. It breaks my heart to know that a life was cut drastically short due to something so avoidable. There’s something to be said for humans, no matter how complex, whose passing can make the world stop and reflect. It’s still so surreal.
I just turned 22. For anyone who knows me, I don’t care much for birthdays, celebrations, etc. Although I was hurting from these passings, I was also reflecting on how short this life is and the fact that it isn’t promised to anyone. Just being in this world (no matter how chaotic and unjust it is) is a blessing that I don’t think we reflect on enough.
So, that sums up week 3 in Nairobi. As much as I tried to write about my time here thus far, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. There’s an overwhelming wave of stimuli that comes with moving to a new country and settling into a new life. Such stimuli might prevent you from taking a moment to sit in your discomfort, progressing as if nothing is bothering you.
This week, I decided to sit in the gridlock instead.
the final sixteen 