Hamna Shida (It Means No Worries for the Rest of Your Days...It’s Our Problem Free Philosophy)

By Claire Meriwether 

No worries: Back home, this is my go-to phrase. It is my default set of words for almost any moment. A friend wants to move a lunch date back by 30 minutes? No worries. Finished the coffee? No worries. Stubbed my toe? No worries. But for all the times the phrase comes out of my mouth, I have to admit that I, like so many people, let myself fill up with worries at home. That’s not to say that some of the worries we fill ourselves up with don’t have a place and a time – some certainly do. But so very many do not, and what I have learned here is how to let those petty worries evaporate.

Hamna shida: This was the first new Swahili phrase I learned that really stuck with me. Fitting, as it essentially translates to ‘no worries.’ But hamna shida has begun to carry so much more weight with me than ‘no worries.’ When I hear or say hamna shida, it’s not the same empty filler that’s been my mantra for years – in its context here, hamna shida truly means that there is no problem or concern.

Hamna shida has many personalities, and as such it is not something that can be easily translated, nor something that can be easily defined. The phrase is something that you experience, so I’ll try to give you a sense with a couple of my hamna shida moments thus far…

It can be a reassuring phrase, as it was when we had a meeting down in the village and everyone was a bit delayed by a morning rainstorm. When we were finally able to connect, one of the first things out of each person’s mouth was a passionate, “Hamna shida, hamna shida.

It can be a humorous and light-hearted phrase, as it was when Emily and I were squashed next to each other on a dala dala (a public transport minivan) that had to be carrying at least 30 people. When Emily, Laura and I first hopped in, we were the only three customers. But about 10 minutes down the road, as more and more stops were made and more and more people packed in, Laura and Emily found themselves plastered up against the window, and I found myself wedged into a type of fetal position. A few minutes later, I felt the brakes kick in again, but as my head was in Emily’s lap and my knees were tucked up next to it, I couldn’t see why we were stopping. I couldn’t imagine that it could be to let on another passenger, so I commented to Emily that we must be stopping to let someone off. As it turned out, Emily had a small sliver of window to look out, and she informed me that, “It actually looks like we’re stopping for another passenger with a large suitcase, but hamna shida!

It can be a comforting phrase, as it was when I was learning to cook chapati, and promptly burnt the first piece. My teacher in the kitchen softly uttered, “Hamna shida, hamna shida,” and let me try again (I didn’t burn the next one).

But there is one thing that hamna shida always possesses, and that is sincerity – it is a way of letting someone know that there really is no problem, nothing to be worried about, nothing to lose sleep over. And isn’t that just the best kind of phrase to have in your vocabulary?