Leave The Crack Open.

I’m writing this story from the Platinum Business Lounge in Hamad Airport in Doha. I’m on my way back home from the King’s land—away from the cold, intermittent rain, and fake sunlight. My return journey included a short layover in Qatar, but we left Heathrow almost an hour late, which made catching my connecting flight to Nairobi nearly impossible. When I disembarked from the plane, a representative from Qatar Airways asked those headed to Nairobi to wait a bit. We couldn’t make it to the gate on time—majuu airports are vast. It’s like being dropped off by a bus at the GPO in the CBD, and your connecting mat is in Westlands, leaving in ten minutes. No way were we going to make it.

But then I remembered to be where my feet were and just make the best of how events turned out. As I waited, another Kenyan lady alighted and found herself in the same predicament. We started talking and quickly built a rapport, perhaps because she was wearing a coloured bucket hat just like me. I suspected that she was cool people. She works for the BBC and was headed home after a month of journalism work in the UK. The Qatar Airways representative led us to their desk, where we were told to wait for a slot to enter one of the airport lounges. It was their way of apologising for missing our flight. It was around 1 am, and the next flight was at 8 o’clock that morning, leaving us with about seven hours to kill.

While we waited, my fellow stranded passenger went to inquire about the status of our business lounge access. I’m not sure what she said, but we were soon ushered into one of the platinum lounges at the airport. I was glad I’d been friendly. Little did I know I would be pampered kidogo as I waited for my flight back home.

The lounge was mzuri and for once, I was in my baby shark’s predicament when it came to food. I often tell her that her eyes are bigger than her stomach. She serves more food than she can eat and then feigns a stomachache to be let off the hook. The spread at the lounge was irresistible. I ate simply because the food was there, not because I was hungry. I even had my first hot shower at an airport. I know we live in a suspicious world, and everyone seems to want a piece of you. But there are still good people out there, and one of them may get you into spaces you wouldn’t otherwise access on your own. My bonga points for flying haven’t accumulated enough to grant me access to the platinum lounge.

However, an inner dialogue was also taking place within me. Even extroverts like myself sometimes get anxious when meeting new people. One of my saboteurs is being a pleaser, so I suddenly got a bout of anxiety as we walked to the lounge. I felt like I needed to up my game by pretending that I’m a frequent flyer and be someone I’m not just to fit in. It could have been imposter syndrome, but it gripped me for a while.

I remembered a quote I had read in an article earlier that morning about purpose anxiety before starting my journey home. Leonard Cohen, the singer-songwriter and poet famous for the hit song ‘Hallelujah’, once said, “There’s a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in”. I quickly internalised that by giving myself a pep talk, urging myself to be comfortable in my skin and let my new friend talk about herself. That worked because I unleashed my coaching techniques on her, asking her about her job and travels.

She shared openly, and I learned a bit about the life of a journalist. I couldn’t help myself, and at some point, I asked her what living a meaningful life looked like to her. That’s the gospel I like preaching. She loves her job, and that’s a good start to living well. She then told me that she mentors aspiring journalists living with disability. That piqued my interest, especially because I have a pal who is passionate about inclusion in golf, helping kids with disabilities learn golf and the life lessons that come with it.

She quickly offered to support a golf charity fundraiser coming up next month by giving it some airtime to raise awareness. That’s how the crack of my inadequacy let the light in. By sharing genuinely, I was able to bridge two people who are living significant lives. If I had been too preoccupied with being some fake, posh person, then that interaction would have gone to waste.

Folks, sometimes life tests us by bringing strangers across our paths in the oddest of ways. All we are required to do is simply be ourselves, as broken as we are or often feel. Remember, broken crayons still colour. The deficiencies in our lives could be the attraction that others see in us, and therefore our superpower.

The world is craving authenticity, and when we dish it out, we get upgrades, just as I did in one way or another. Instead of obsessing over how to look and act perfect, we should view our cracks as windows to our true selves and not as gaps to be sealed with pretence. When we pretend, we keep folks (and the light they bring) out under the illusion of self-protection. Most likely, what we are actually doing is blocking the pleasant surprises that life may be bringing our way.

Leave the crack open, folks. There’s a reason it was there in the first place.