---
title: "Happiness is a choice - Chapter 1"
description: "Chapter 1: Happiness is a choice. A story about Zuri and Amina in Kilwa Kisiwani learning that happiness comes from perspective."
keywords: "happiness, choice, empathy, Kilwa Kisiwani, Zuri, Amina"
url: "https://empathyisallyouneed.com/happiness-is-a-choice"
language: "en"
---

# Happiness is a choice

Tunahitaji kuwa na moyo wa kuelewa

Start Listening

0:00

![Zuri walking in Kilwa Kisiwani](https://46stkanv8b.koniglecdn.com/images/african-woman-kilwa.webp)

The afternoon sun beat down on Kilwa Kisiwani as Zuri, with her salt-and-pepper hair covered by a colorful kanga, made her way along Njia ya Tajiri. At fifty-five, her steps were slower than in her youth, but her eyes still sparkled with the same curiosity and kindness. She was going to visit her lifelong friend Amina, whose father's home had long since passed to Amina's own son. 

As Zuri approached the coral stone house, she heard the unmistakable sound of Amina's voice, raised in frustration. "Faraji\! Why must you always question my decisions? Can't you see I know what's best for this family?" 

Zuri hesitated at the doorway, recognizing the familiar tones of an argument between Amina and her son. Before she could decide whether to interrupt, Amina stormed out, nearly colliding with her friend. 

"Oh, Zuri\! Thank goodness you're here," Amina exclaimed, her face flushed with anger, tugging the fine lines etched around her eyes. "You won't believe what I have to put up with in this house\!" 

Zuri offered a patient smile, one honed by decades of friendship. "What is troubling you today, my friend?" 

Without pausing for breath, Amina launched into a litany of complaints as they departed from the house and walked towards the shore. "Faraji thinks he knows everything now that he's taken over his father's business. He wants to trade with those new merchants from Sofala. Doesn't he understand the risks? And my daughter-in-law, she's filling his head with all these foreign ideas. It's like everyone in Kilwa is conspiring to drive me to an early grave\!" 

Zuri listened patiently to her familiar tale. "Have you tried talking to Faraji about your concerns more calmly?" 

But Amina was already on to her next thought. "Oh, and did you hear about the new imam? I heard he's suggesting we welcome those foreign sailors into our mosque. Can you believe it? The elders will need to hear about this\!" 

Zuri gently interjected, "Amina, didn't you just say you were worried about Faraji's new trading partners? Perhaps we should think through one issue at a time—" 

Amina's eyes flashed with sudden hurt. "We don’t have time Zuri, our way of life is being threatened left and right\! You don't want to help protect our community? I thought we shared an understanding. If you cared about me, about our community, you’d already be helping us get an audience with our elders." 

Taken aback, Zuri quickly reassured her, "Of course I care about you, Amina. I just thought we might want to consider our actions carefully before rushing to make them." 

As they reached the beach, Zuri attempted to steer the conversation to a more positive note. "The sea is as beautiful today as it was when we were girls, isn't it? Kilwa has prospered so much in our lifetime. We're fortunate to have seen our children grow up in such a vibrant port." 

But Amina was not to be deterred. "Beautiful? All I see are more foreign ships than ever. They'll probably bring diseases or bad influences. Nothing good ever comes from them." 

Zuri sighed. "Amina, do you remember when we were young, how we dreamed of seeing Kilwa grow? Your son is a respected successor to your husband’s business, you have healthy grandchildren, and your family is still honored in the community. Isn't there joy in that?" 

Amina's face darkened. "Joy? What do you know of it, Zuri? You're not the one watching your son throw away generations of traditional wisdom. Your nieces and nephews still respect your opinion. I wish I had your life\!" 

"My life isn't perfect either, Amina," Zuri said gently. "I've had my share of disagreements with the younger generation. But I've learned to listen to them too. They often find wisdom in ways we lack." 

"Are you saying I'm old-fashioned?" Amina snapped, her voice rising. "I don’t follow our traditions blindly; surely you know me better than this. But our ways of life have kept our community strong. Yet our youth seem not to respect them\!" She grimaced as another ship’s horn echoed through the harbor. "My words fall on their deaf ears no matter how hard I try. You don't understand what I go through\!" 

Zuri took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "That's not what I meant, Amina. I understand you want the best for our community. I just thought we might want to consider our actions carefully before rushing to make them. Like this moment now, here with you, in the most beautiful place in the world." 

As they stood watching the ships, the call to prayer echoed across Kilwa. Zuri touched her friend's arm gently. "Come, it’s time to go to the mosque. Prayer might help soothe your spirit." 

As they walked, Amina continued to fret. "I don't understand why Faraji insists on giving so much to those new schools. Doesn't he know we should keep that money in the family? We've worked hard all our lives, we deserve to preserve the fruits of our labor, especially in these troubling times ahead." 

Zuri looked at her friend, surprised that even after all these years, some things hadn't changed. "But Amina, isn't ensuring education for our youth one of the noblest acts we can perform in Allah's eyes?" 

"Of course," Amina replied dismissively. "That's why I always make sure to be seen donating at the madrasa on holy days. It's important to show how devout we are. But there should be limits." 

They approached the mosque, and Zuri noticed a group of sailors – clearly foreigners – hovering at the entrance. Amina saw them too and frowned. "They shouldn't be here. This is our mosque." 

Zuri gently touched her friend's arm. "Amina, remember what we learned about the Prophet's kindness to strangers?" 

Amina's frown deepened. "So you also don’t see this as a problem? If you cared about our faith and our community, you wouldn't want to let just anyone in. Sometimes I wonder whose side you're really on, Zuri." 

As they left the mosque at the end of the namaz, they encountered Faraji, Amina's son, deep in conversation with a trader from Gujarat. Amina's face clouded over immediately. 

"Faraji\!" she called out. "What are you doing again with yet another foreigner?" 

Faraji, a man in his early thirties with a striking resemblance to Amina's late husband, froze for a moment, but quickly turned to the two women with a gentle smile. "Mother, Aunt Zuri, I'm glad you're here. This is Rajesh, a spice merchant from Gujarat. He has some fascinating ideas about new trade routes that could bring great prosperity to Kilwa." 

Amina's eyes flashed. "Prosperity? What about your father’s old loyal trading partners, have they not served us well for years? Why are you so eager to change things?" 

Faraji's smile faltered slightly, but he maintained his composure and took her quickly to one side. "Mother, our world is changing. We must change with it or be left behind. Rajesh and his people have much to offer us, just as we have much to offer them." 

"You sound just like your Aunt Zuri," Amina snapped. "Always talking about change and new ideas. Don’t you see that you’re risking all the work we’ve done to sustain our livelihood for decades?" 

Zuri watched the exchange, seeing the hurt in Faraji's eyes and the frustration in Amina's. She realized that the time had come for her to speak up, not just for Faraji's sake, but for Amina's as well. 

"Amina," Zuri said warmly, drawing her friend away from her son. "We need to talk." 

Amina stumbled away with her, frustrated but surprised at the sudden change in Zuri's tone. "About what?" 

Zuri took a deep breath. "My friend, we've known each other for most of our lives. I've always tried to be there for you, to understand your feelings. But I've come to realize that being a true friend to you is more than just agreeing with everything you say." 

"What do you mean?" Amina asked, her voice a mix of confusion and defensiveness. "Shouldn’t it be about understanding how I feel?" 

"It is," Zuri nodded, "but it's also about helping each other grow and find happiness." Zuri took Amina's weathered hands on her own. "Perhaps both of us have more to learn about empathy, even at our age. I've realized that by sidelining with you all these years, I wasn't truly helping you. And you, by rejecting Faraji’s ideas because they are new and unfamiliar, are in turn rejecting opportunities to solve these problems together with trust and understanding." 

Amina's eyes widened. "How can you say this to me? All I do is for the love of my son. For the love of our community\! Am I not empathetic for going out of my way to help and care for others?" 

Zuri looked at Faraji and back at her friend. "Amina, I know your intentions are good. But real empathy means being open to other ideas, even when they're different from our own. It means caring enough to challenge each other when we're stuck in patterns that harm us." 

She continued, "Look at Faraji. He's trying to build a bridge between tradition and progress. He may not know the answer to Kilwa’s new challenges, but he sees a new path forward. And he’s still hoping you will be by his side as he tries to figure things out. By dismissing his ideas, you're not only pushing him away but also missing an opportunity to see the world through his eyes. Isn't that what empathy truly is?" 

Amina's expression softened slightly. "I... I never thought of it that way. I always believed I was protecting him, protecting our way of life." 

"I know," Zuri said warmly. "Your intentions come from a place of love. But true empathy means being willing to step outside our own perspective. It means being open to change and new ideas, not because we always agree with them, but because understanding them enriches our lives and relationships." 

Amina was quiet for a moment, her gaze drifting to where Faraji stood with Rajesh. "But Zuri, how can I be open to ideas that frighten me? How can I empathize with changes I don't understand?" 

Zuri squeezed her friend's hands. "We start small. We listen more than we speak. We ask questions instead of making judgments. We try to imagine walking in another's shoes, even if just for a moment." 

She paused, realizing that now was the moment to share the most important lesson she'd learned in their long friendship. "And most importantly, Amina, we must understand something crucial, something I've observed over our many years together." 

Amina looked at Zuri in pensive thought. "What is it, Zuri?" 

Zuri's voice was gentle but firm, her gaze steady and compassionate. "Do you know how you keep complaining that you’re always unhappy? But Happiness, my dear friend, is a choice. It always has been, and it always will be." 

Amina's brow furrowed slightly. "A choice? But Zuri, surely our circumstances—" 

"Our circumstances influence us, yes," Zuri interrupted. "But they do not define us. I've watched you in times of plenty and in times of hardship. I've seen you surrounded by success and challenges both. And I've realized that your happiness never came from what was happening around you, but from how you chose to open your eyes to it." 

She continued, her words clear and deliberate. "Today, you have the choice to listen to Faraji and Rajesh with an open mind. You have the choice to see the changes in Kilwa as opportunities rather than threats. You can look to our shoreline and enjoy how the sun’s colors dance on its waves, or see only the foreign merchant ships that terrify you. Happiness comes from your choice to engage, to understand, to be open." 

Amina stayed quiet, her eyes no longer frowning, but dawning with understanding. 

Zuri gestured to the bustling port around them, bustling with a myriad people from different lands, the fusion of traditions and innovations that now feature in shop after shop of Kilwa’s busy streets. "You’ve seen it, Amina. Life will always bring changes, challenges, and unexpected turns, many of them out of our hands. But our power lies in how we choose to face them. Will we choose bitterness, or growth? Fear, or curiosity? Isolation, or connection? Despair, or hope?" 

"Every day, every moment," Zuri pressed on, "we have the power to choose how we react, how we think, how we feel. It's not always easy – believe me, I know. But it is always possible. Happiness isn't something that happens to us, Amina. It's something we choose, again and again." 

Amina's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but there was a new light in them – a spark of recognition, of possibility. "I... I think I understand, Zuri. All these years, I've been waiting for happiness to come to me, haven't I?" 

Zuri nodded, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Yes, you have. But it's never too late to make a different choice. Starting right now, if you want to." 

Amina took a deep breath. She watched as another merchant boat lifted its anchor and drifted away from the docks.. "I do want to, Zuri. I choose... I choose to be happy. To try, at least." She muttered hesitantly. 

Zuri squeezed Amina’s hand. "That's all any of us can do," she said, her voice filled with warmth and encouragement. "To try, every day. And I'll always be by your side, to walk this journey together with you." 

Amina nodded, then turned towards Faraji and Rajesh. With a huff, she squared her shoulders, as if preparing for a great journey. "Faraji," she called, her voice softer than before. "Would you and your friend tell me more about your ideas? I'd... I'd like to understand." 

Faraji's face lit up with a mix of surprise and joy. "Of course, Mother. We'd be happy to." 

Zuri beamed as she watched her friend converse with her son and the Indian merchant. She saw Amina listening intently, asking questions, and even smiling at times. It was a small step, but an important one. A reminder that it's never too late to learn, to grow, to choose empathy and understanding. 

As the trading hours came to a close, the sun was setting over the Indian Ocean, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and purple. Amina sat next to Zuri by the shoreline, a contentment in her expression that Zuri hadn't seen in years. 

"It really is beautiful, isn't it?" Amina said softly. 

Zuri nodded, her heart full. "Yes, it is. And Amina? Remember..." 

"I know," Amina finished with a small smile, glancing back at her. "Happiness is a choice. My choice. And today, I choose to be happy." 

In the fading daylight, the ancient stones of Kilwa Kisiwani stood as silent witnesses to how true empathy and friendship kindles happiness. 

### Further Exploration

  * [Ruins of Kilwa Kisiwani and Ruins of Songo Mnara](https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/144/) \- UNESCO World Heritage Centre \(Web Page\). 
  * [The Swahili Coast](https://www.worldhistory.org/Swahili_Coast/) \- World History Encyclopedia overview of the trading hubs like Kilwa and Sofala \(Article\). 
  * [The History of the Swahili Coast](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1xN5-rQ5K4M) \- Exploring the intersection of African and Arab trade cultures \(Video\). 

[← Introduction](/introduction) [Do I belong? →](/do-i-belong)