Growing up in a quiet village on the outskirts of Eldoret, my world was simple. Red soil, green fields, cows that refused to cooperate and neighbors who knew your entire life story before you even lived it. Nairobi felt like another planet. A place of tall buildings, fast walkers and people who spoke English like they were in a TV commercial. Me? I was just a village girl with big dreams and a stubborn spirit my grandmother lovingly called kichwa ngumu.( Swahili Phrase)

But deep inside, I always felt there was more waiting for me beyond the maize farms and dusty footpaths. So when the chance came to travel abroad, I grabbed it with both hands, even though I had never boarded a plane, never used an escalator, and honestly did not fully understand how airports worked. Standing there with my small suitcase and oversized hopes, I whispered bismillah, praying I would not embarrass myself before even leaving Kenya.

The moment I stepped into the airport, everything felt unreal. The bright lights, the loud announcements, the travelers who looked like they had been flying since birth. I held my passport like it was a newborn baby. And when the plane finally took off, I clutched the armrest with the strength of a woman determined not to scream. Somewhere between fear and excitement, I felt a spark. A quiet voice saying, “This is your beginning.”

Little did I know, the real adventure was waiting thousands of miles away in the Gulf, in UAE.

If you think boarding the plane was dramatic, wait until you hear what happened next!