Everything You Thought You Knew Is Wrong—This Destination Is a Paradise!

By Carmen Davis

Rethinking Paradise: Breaking Free from Western Narratives of Africa

When we think of paradise, Kenya probably isn’t the first place that comes to mind—especially for many Black Americans. We usually dream of destinations like Miami, Hawaii, or somewhere in the Caribbean. The idea of returning to the motherland—a place that should feel like home—often doesn’t cross our minds. But why is that?

I remember being in high school, sitting in economics class, when a fellow Black student asked, “Who wants to go to Africa?” Almost everyone, including me, said, “No.” If I had to guess, our reluctance was due to the way the media portrays Africa. For many of us, travel means escaping the grind and hustle. We want sun, sand, and a place to kick back with a drink in hand—destinations that scream vacation escape.

But Africa? The media has painted a different picture: a continent struggling with poverty, disease, and violence. The narrative we’ve been fed has always overshadowed Africa’s real beauty and deep culture.

Growing up, my exposure to Africa was limited. The only "African" I knew was my sister’s Nigerian godfather, who had a thick accent, dark skin, and visible scars on both sides of his face. As a kid, I didn’t understand it. I remember feeling nervous around him because he was so different from anyone I knew.

The only other stories I had about Africa came from my pastor, who traveled to Lagos to preach. He came back raving about the people there—their resilience, spirit, and joy despite having so little. While I admired those stories, they weren’t enough to change my mindset. In my mind, Africa was still a place of “booty scratchers” and people “dying from AIDS.” The idea of going back to the “motherland” never seriously crossed my mind.

But as I got older, my perspective shifted. I began to see that the dark skin my sister’s godfather carried—our dark skin—was beautiful. His scars weren’t something scary but symbols of his Yoruba heritage, a mark of royalty. I realized that African kings and queens weren’t just fantasy—they were real. And the people I had once dismissed as “booty scratchers” included my own Kenyan boyfriend.

I had been misinformed, but as I started to embrace African culture, I began to understand the magic of the continent.

A Transformative Journey: Finding True Paradise in Kenya’s Coastal Gem, Lamu

When I had the opportunity to travel to the Magical Kenya Travel Expo for Culture Travels, I couldn’t pass it up. Setting foot in the motherland for the first time ever was life-changing. My experience completely overturned everything I thought I knew about Africa.

I had always imagined paradise as a place filled with white sand beaches and crystal-clear water—a destination that only wealthy white people could afford to visit. But when I stepped foot in Kenya, I realized that true paradise wasn’t just about the scenery. It was in the people, the culture, and the community.

The Cambridge Dictionary defines paradise as “a place or condition of great happiness where everything is exactly as you would like it to be.” That’s the kind of place I had been searching for—a peaceful place. I didn’t know what it would look like, but when I arrived in Kenya, I found exactly what I needed, even if I hadn’t known it yet.

Despite my growing admiration for African culture, I still carried subconscious fears. Would it be violent? Would I get sick? Would I feel like an outsider as a Black American? The media had planted those seeds in my mind, and they were hard to shake. But I let go of my past beliefs, opened my mind, and allowed myself to experience Kenya for what it truly was.

What I discovered in Nairobi, Rusinga Island, and especially Lamu was nothing like what Western media had portrayed. It was a vibrant, peaceful, and beautiful reality.

The Essence of Lamu: Culture, Community, and the Peace of Sweet Lamu

When I arrived in Lamu, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Stepping off the plane, I felt like I had entered an entirely new world. The fresh island air, the sound of the ocean, and the view of lush tropical trees surrounding the island—it all took my breath away.

But more than the scenery, I fell in love with the people. One of the first people I met was Fridah Njeri, and she immediately left an impression on me. At first, I thought she worked at the airport, but I soon learned she was “Miss Lamu,” the face of Lamu tourism. With her short hair, freckled face, and radiant smile, she embodied the warmth and beauty of Lamu. Fridah wasn’t just welcoming; she made me feel like family.

Lamu Island is one of the oldest and best-preserved Swahili settlements in East Africa. With over 25,000 residents, it feels like a close-knit community. The streets are too narrow for cars, so donkeys are used for transportation, and boats are the primary way to get around. Everything about Lamu feels timeless, from its coral stone architecture to the locals’ deep sense of pride in their culture.

At my hotel, I was greeted with fresh passion fruit juice and escorted to my room by staff dressed in white uniforms. I wasn’t allowed to carry anything myself, which, as a Southern girl, I recognized as a gesture of true hospitality. The white buildings, turquoise waters, and relaxed atmosphere made me feel like I was in the Mediterranean, yet it was distinctly African.

Lamu’s Heartbeat: A Community That Becomes Family

Lamu is a feeling. It’s where visitors come as strangers and leave as family. The island’s deep sense of community and tradition is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. People know each other by name, and they go out of their way to help one another.

During my visit, I saw hotel staff deliver coffee by boat and artisans hand-deliver souvenirs across the sea. These were more than just transactions, they were acts of connection. It’s the kind of place where life slows down, and you can breathe.

No wonder they call it "Lamu Tamu," or "Sweet Lamu."

Redefining Paradise: Embracing AFRICA as the True Promised Land

This trip to Kenya has taught me that paradise isn’t about meeting preconceived expectations or having the perfect Instagram post. Paradise is found in community, culture, and connection. It’s a place where your spirit is nourished, where you feel at home, and where you leave feeling a little more whole.

If someone asked me now if I would “go to Africa,” my answer would be, “What time is the flight?” The traditions of Rusinga Island, the sense of family in Nairobi, and the beauty of Lamu all came together to show me that paradise isn’t some far-off fantasy. It’s right here, exactly as you would like it to be. 

Kenya is a place where you come as a visitor and leave as family.