I arrived at Mombasa International Airport (and someone should fix those phone-charging points to fit the “international” part). I called a cab. The driver answered pleasantly, as one who genuinely liked his work. His warmth and openness made him the kind of person you think, “If I ever return to Mombasa, I’ll call him again.” I knew I’d probably forget—but in that moment, it felt sincere.
From the start, the ride carried hints of something more than just taxi fare. He was more than a driver—he was an informal tour guide. His voice brightened as he pointed to the proliferation of trucks clogging the road: “See all these trucks? The traffic they are causing is good news—Mombasa is back!” He remembered when the city “was dying” because there was no business at the port. Now, with movement and vehicles, he saw revival.