Why I still wear a 15yr old shirt

It takes a lot to make me cry, and very little to make me laugh. I try to find joy in everything that comes to my attention. In most cases I do find it, and if I don't I try to accept the situation and move on. When something sad comes along, I know it always give way to something nice and joyful.

I bought a bunch of shirts in Athens back in 94. Soon after, I went back to Kenya to see my forks. I was not very hip then "I never was" so I had my baby sister Nancy do my laundry while I was there. She'd fetch some water from the mathare stream, hand wash them, and hung them on the cloth line to dry. It would be a lucky day if they manage to dry before the African tornadoes (Ngoma ciaka) blow them away and she'd go hunting for them between the coffee trees. After a few weeks of dirt and walking in the darkness (I hope you remember how dark it gets down there), one of my shirts (pictured) lost 2 buttons.

So my dear sister could not give me back my shirt with the 2 buttons missing. She decided to find replacements. I do not know where she got them from. I presume she did not have buttons in stock somewhere, so I guess she ripped some from an old shirt or from one of my nephews long tailed shirt. Then, I guess she did not have a thread to stitch with. Looking at the shirt now, I think she pulled a thread from one of my old primary school sweater which they had been hanging on the fence as a sign of my total departure some years before.

When I wore the shirt the first time after button replacement, I was surprised because the thread used was green and the buttons were white. Well I'm not fashion conscious but I know that it is a total mismatch. Just like it happens to me most of the time, I found a funny side of it. She knew I'd not care and I'd understand. I decide not to wear the shirt while there but I would take it back with me to Europe.

The grey shirt so far somehow has traveled through the world with me and always finds a place at the end of the line in my closets. Someone I know has tried to get rid of it but it survives. Every time I pick it up, I feel something warm in my heart. I can’t help but smile every time I put it on because it reminds me of my baby sister. She might not have given me much but that day 15 years ago, she did something for with everything she had. The buttons still hold and the green on them looks artistic. I put it on and proudly stick out my false belly.

I know when I put it on I look ridiculous, but how many of you in the Diaspora, have a shirt washed and dried on a cloth line in Africa, with two buttons with green woolen thread and other three made in Europe, and is 15 years old?. I love you Nancy Njoki.