I never imagined I would learn to haggle over tomatoes.

Yet here I am, in the middle of Kibera’s bustling Toi Market, arguing with a mama mboga over ten shillings. Ten. Back in my old life, I wouldn’t have bent down to pick up a coin unless it was at least a dollar. Now, standing in the hot Nairobi sun with dust clinging to my ankles and the smell of fresh coriander in the air, I want those ten shillings off. I deserve those ten shillings off.

“Mama, why are you charging me eighty bob ...