Moyo wangu umejaa: my heart is full, and here's why

A few days ago, I wrote something I'd been avoiding. I told you something here was broken, and that I couldn't fix it without you.

I'll be honest about what happened next. Not many of you wrote back. A handful. But the people who did gave me something I didn't expect. Not just ideas, but encouragement. I read their words more than once, and I'll admit I was moved. When you pour evenings and weekends into something and aren't sure anyone is out there, hearing back from real people, in their own words, means more than I can easily say.

Moyo wangu umejaa. My heart is full.

I promised to share what I learned and what I changed. It's only been a few days, but your words were too good to sit on. So here it is.

“The only site for me to learn Swahili”

L. has been learning Swahili with us for a year, alongside a friend in Japan. The first thing she wrote made my week:

“I love your site as it is the only site for me to learn Swahili.”

— L.

I don't think I can fully explain what it's like to read that. Somewhere in the world, two friends have been learning Swahili together for a year, and this little site has been part of it. That alone made every late night worth it.

Then, gently and honestly, she told me why she doesn't visit more often:

“Our life is busy and I may not try to make time to enter your site when I have so many options to enter.”

— L.

That sentence stopped me. She's completely right. It isn't her job to remember us. It's our job to show up. L. is learning Polish too, and a new word arrives in her inbox every day. “I would be very happy if I can find your emails in my gmail box,” she wrote.

“Words on a page can come across as dull”

A., a parent, pushed me somewhere uncomfortable, in the best possible way:

“Words on a page can come across as dull or inanimate.”

— A.

Children learn differently today, he said. They're captivated by short videos. His idea was simple and brilliant: take everyday moments and “turn them into teachable moments in front of a camera.” Thirty seconds. A minute. Real life, in Swahili.

And then he said the thing I needed most. When I asked what he'd change with a magic wand:

“I think it's about consistency.”

— A.

Post once a week at the same time, he explained, and people start expecting it. That's 52 moments of Swahili in a year. Simple, clear, and exactly right.

The words that kept me going

A. didn't just give me ideas. He gave me courage. He wrote:

“It's easily said to keep going… you just have to stick to your guns.”

— A.

And then this, which I've thought about every day since:

“The content you create may become the main thing someone chooses to depend on.”

— A.

I don't take that lightly. It's a reminder of why this matters, and of the responsibility that comes with it.

What I've changed

Jambo Daily now comes to you, thanks to L.

One Swahili word, straight to your inbox: what it means, how to say it, and how to use it in a real sentence. Choose every day or once a week, and unsubscribe any time with one click.

Starting Monday 28 September, there are thirty new words chosen to make you smile: the word that sounds exactly like hiccups (kwikwi), why the Swahili clock starts at sunrise, and the surprising truth about mamba. Words that spark wonder, curiosity and a little laughter.

Get your first word →

What's next

Videos, just as A. suggested. I'll be honest: I haven't filmed the first one yet. It's a work in progress, and I want to get it right rather than rush it. When I start, it'll be one a week, at the same time, because I'd rather promise one I can keep than three I'll quietly drop by week four. A., this one's for you.

And I'll keep listening. The feedback form is staying open, and I read every response.

Something I'm keeping with me

When I asked L. what she'd change with a magic wand, she didn't mention the website at all. She wrote:

“Melting a protective heart to be an open one.”

— L.

I've thought about that line a lot. Writing that first post felt a little like that: lowering my guard and admitting I needed help. You met it with open hearts. You took time out of busy lives to help a stranger build something better, and you did it with such kindness.

To L. and A., and to everyone who wrote in: asante sana. You've given this project more than feedback. You've given it heart.

Have something to tell me? The door is always open.

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