On a cool Saturday afternoon, the day before Kenya celebrates Madaraka Day (June 1, 1963 -- the date the country attained internal self-rule), several of my colleagues from Population Action International (PAI) and I are having lunch at the home of Rosemarie Muganda-Onyando in Nairobi.

Rosemarie, the director of the Centre for the Study of Adolescence and a dear friend of PAI's, has been instrumental in arranging logistics and interviews as we film our latest documentary. She has gathered over a dozen people, many of whom work in reproductive health, in her lovely living room for a traditional Kenyan meal. Our conversation topics range from our children to USAID to Nairobi's biblical traffic jams.

It is only after many of the guests have left and there are just six women remaining that the conversation turns to the presidential elections in the U.S. There is such passion as the Kenyan women talk about Barack Obama.

"He is our son," one states emphatically.

They speak with awe of his father's birthplace in Nyanza Province, more than five hours away from where we are sitting in Nairobi. Barack's father was "brilliant," a woman says.

"Everyone talked about how smart he was. It is the fish they eat there. You eat the head of the fish and all the wisdom goes straight to your own head." The women nod in agreement, assuming the senior Obama ate a lot of fish heads.

Those of us from the States are grilled about Obama's chances of winning the election; there is no doubt in their minds that he will win the nomination.

I ask if they would be this excited if another African-American were poised to win the Democratic nomination for president: Is it about race or is it about ancestry?

One woman shakes her head and says, "Barack [they almost always call him by his first name] is special. When he was just a teenager, he made the long journey to his father's village. He had to ride on the back of a truck. How many teenagers would do that?"

Earlier in the lunch, an earnest young man sitting next to me tells me that his greatest wish is to visit the U.S. He says that he and his friends call the U.S. "Heaven." While I try to give him a more realistic view of my country, he remains steadfast. His parting words are, "Soon I will find a way to see the United States."

As these well-educated, politically aware women talk about the positive changes an Obama presidency would bring to the world, I am reminded once again how small our global nation can seem sometimes. And, the women say, on the day after their "son" is elected president, we will be able to hear the cheering of Kenyans all the way in America.