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My colleague Dan, this man who somehow knows more about Africa than most Americans I’ve met looked me dead in the eye last night and said, “You remind me of Betty Bayo’s songs.”
I froze. My heart dropped. I asked him, “Do you even know she died today?”
Betty Bayo… one of my mom’s absolute favorites.Her voice was part of my life every time I hang out with my mom.
Before I could even gather myself, Dan calmly opened his phone, searched her name, and started playing Agocwo, a song I had NEVER even heard. And there he was… singing the chorus along, word for word, like someone who had grown up in Kiambu. I just stared at him in disbelief, wondering how this American man had unlocked memories I didn’t even know existed.
At that point, I had no choice but to ask him if he has ever dated a Kenyan woman before because that level of accuracy, knowledge, and vibe cannot be coincidence. 
. He is definitelygetting all the chapatis and samosas when I make them. Rest in peace Betty Bayo
Life is strange.