When I arrived in Kenya, I was not yet 20 years old and my head was full of hopes, ideals and so many mental superstructures that you could build a penthouse with a view of your expectations.
Because 'in your twenties you're really stupid, how many lies you have in your head at that age' sang a poet.
At twenty, on the other hand, a Kenyan from the coast had already seen everything about life, even though he may not have studied and travelled the world like me. He had seen friends and relatives die from an early age, often without knowing why. He had seen his home disappear, his sister sold to a gentleman at the age of eleven, his school without desks or chairs.
Yet he had the same hopes and expectations as me, and much more happiness. A mud hut with a roof of dried palm leaves was far too much for his heritage and paranoia.
In my twenties I realised that happiness, which is the essential good of life, does not depend on what happens to you, nor on what they suggest you do or think, you do not have to look for it outside, it is already inside you when you are born.
It is the world, often society, that gradually teaches you to be ashamed of it, to consider it as something to be achieved, as a treasure to be found 'the pursuit of happiness'.
The absurdity of having to search for something that is already inside you and that you could easily share with others. 
Like a seed that you hold in your hands like a precious gift, you just have to take it with you, make it grow, nurture it and relate it to nature, to its surroundings.
Thank you Africa, for teaching me how to cultivate happiness, I hope one day to be able to repay you.