Women who wander

Every family has its own magic, that specific mix of people that somehow results in an absolute rollercoaster of a ride , deep love, and a lot (so so much) of noise. Ours? Ours is built on faith, prayer, duty, and a massive dose of lafness passed down through the women. We are a crazy mix of wanderers, healers, teachers, quiet rebels, and soft-hearted warriors. We’ve crossed oceans, settled on foreign soil, always pioneering, but always circling back to each other. We’re basically a global sisterhood kept alive by positivity and a very active, sometimes fiery, WhatsApp group.

Forty-one years ago, a girl with a big heart (literally, a massive one) was born into this family. Even back then, we knew Aish wasn’t meant to stay in one place. Some souls are just meant for the wider world, learning early on what it feels like to ache for home, but also how powerful love is when it stretches across oceans. Following the path of her Nana and her Mama before her (the true OGs) Aishah packed her bags to go find herself and explore the world.

She left the loud, warm embrace of our family in Cape Town, headed to the deserts of the Middle East, and eventually settled in the green pastures of Brighton. And let’s be honest, she brought some much-needed SA flavour and colour to the UK. 

Yet, no matter how many kilometres are between us, you are ours. Our Aish. Our first-born grandchild. You’re the one who connected us all, the fairy who flew away with a piece of our hearts. Watching you grow into the woman you are today has been beautiful. You hold space for everyone: your kids, your yogis, your sisters. You have this way of holding everyone in your warmth. And on those days when things feel heavy, you’re still the one popping up in the chat to chase away the shadows with photos, videos, voice notes, affirmations, and a bit of mischief. You constantly remind us of what matters: love, laughter, faith, and really good food.

Three generations of us, connected by a rhythm that never skips a beat. Every single day we’re online sharing secrets, telling stories, lifting each other up, and sending blessings. Joy is celebrated instantly, and sorrow is never carried alone. It’s our lifeline. Our very own, very loud, very loving support system.

On your 41st birthday, Aishah, we celebrate you. The one who has carried our hopes, our laughter, and sometimes our grief. The one who dances in her kitchen with our Greenies and makes expat life look like a beautiful adventure. You’ve built a joyful life on foreign soil. But our deepest hope is that one day we will all land softly in the same place. To just be together. To laugh until our stomachs hurt, with the kids running around our feet, finally remembering what it sounds like to love each other without the distance.

You aren’t just a chapter in our family story, Aish. You’re the chapter we re-read when things get tough. You’re the verse we underline, the name we whisper in our prayers, and the home we carry with us wherever we go.

So today, we wish you the happiest birthday: May your 40s bring you deep peace, faith, and acceptance. May your children grow wild and wise under your gentle gaze. And most of all, may you always find your way back to us.

And then there’s our Leily. Your journey took you far and wide too, following in Aish’s footsteps...from Abu Dhabi to Montenegro, from the Caribbean to the icy blue waters of Alaska. Know this: we hold you just as fiercely in our hearts. You are our compass and our healer. "Dr. Leilah" to the world, but to us, you’ll always be the studious, hard-working girl with that soft, lekker laugh. In your quiet way, you keep us steady. And thank you for gifting us Mashie, our wild child who dances for all of us under the watchful eye of Wawo.

How lucky are we?

Our sisterhood is scattered across the world, but one day, we’ll all gather on one wide veranda. We’ll have our caftans on, boho-chic and completely carefree, hair tucked into turbans, laughing like teenagers. We’ll be banging pots and pans, making a beautiful mess preparing family dinners, and dancing to old-school tracks until our feet sore. We'll talk like no time has passed and the miles never existed.

Until that day comes, we hold each other close. We are the women who wander but we are always, always making our way home.