Back in March, I embarked on what is probably the greatest journey of my life to date, the journey home to Africa. During this trip, my organization was able to donate a new laptop/food to an orphanage in Ngong Hills (Nairobi area) and establish future opportunities for partnership; I met and “sistered” two of the kindest people in my world (my Tab/my Imma); I easily learned and contextually used several Swahili words; and I ministered for a pastor’s and leader’s conference with a translator, fulfilling a vision God showed me twenty-one years prior that I’d given up on. Yes, little, old Nikki Anthony from the south side of Jacksonville, FL…nobody special by any means.
On our second day in Nairobi, we visited a curio shop. While perusing and processing the fact that I was standing in the the Motherland, the shop owner stopped me to ask a few questions about myself. Upon learning I was born and raised American/Floridian, he reached out and embraced me, and then whispered, “Welcome home.” That welcome was 500+ years in the making. #iykyk I cried my eyes out when I got back to my room that evening.
*Pictured: 1) American Auntie Nikki who became African Auntie Nikki to these three sweet babies; African auntie status is next level, lol! 🤎
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