How Kiswahili Betrayed Me in a New York Supermarket (And Got Me VIP Treatment)

Allow me to establish the context. 

I walked into this giant supermarket in New York feeling focused and responsible. The visit was my second time in New York City. My mission was professional. 

Attending a symposium. 

So my shopping list was short. Therefore, my mission to the supermarket was simple. Get in. Get out. No drama.

But then… the prices. My people, the bread was staring at me like it had a mortgage attached. Without even thinking, I muttered in Kiswahili, “Eh, hizi bei ni za kutisha.” (These prices are scary.) 

As a Kenyan from a background without luxury, I converted the dollar into Kenyan shillings [my weakness]. Kwani huku ni wapi? Even though I had enough pocket money, I was startled by the price differences. 

I continued talking to myself, but in Kiswahili. 

Now, in my mind, I was safe. This is America. It is many kilometres from Kenya. People are supposed to say “Have a wonderful day” and move on, not respond to my muttering in Kiswahili.

Right?

Wrong!

From the next aisle came a calm voice, “Ndio, lakini ukijua mahali pa kutafuta utapata bei nzuri.” (Yes, but if you know where to look, you’ll find better prices.)

I nearly dropped the bread, sister. My brain started racing. Who sent this person? And, more importantly, I wondered what else I was saying out loud in Kiswahili without realising it.

Before I could recover, another attendant appeared with the biggest grin, “Karibu dada, unataka msaada?” (Welcome, sister. need some help?) Suddenly, aisle five turned into a mini East African diaspora reunion.

Instead of stressing about brands, I was getting VIP treatment. They directed me towards the genuine bargains, discreetly indicated which products are overrated, and even prevented me from purchasing a “spicy” hot sauce that allegedly tastes like ketchup with an attitude.

By the time I checked out, I was no longer embarrassed. I was laughing, chatting, and realising how much power a language carries. Kiswahili turned my awkward muttering into a full-blown shopping adventure.

Why this matters: For anyone living abroad, these little diaspora moments are golden. Language connects us. Whether you are East African in America, European in Asia, or Latin American in Europe, there is always that magical second when your “private language” turns public and strangers become family.

So next time you hear Kiswahili in a supermarket in the US, don’t be surprised if it’s me accidentally starting another family reunion in aisle five.

Did this story make you laugh or remind you of your own “caught speaking your language abroad” moment? Drop your funniest experience in the comments

I’d love to hear it!

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# Kiswahili 

#DiasporaMoments