I finally reached the outskirts of my community after a 5-mile, uphill bike ride from the town where I go to buy groceries.
Hot, exhausted and loaded down with rice, bananas and mangoes, I didn't have the energy to go the final few hundred yards to reach the compound where I live.
Luckily, I didn't have to.
From the distance I heard cries of "n be Wumpini lo lo ni." That means "Welcome home my sister Wumpini." (That's my local name; it means God's gift.)