Skip to main content

What If We Never Feel Safe Enough to Rest?In a country where nothing is guaranteed, how do we allow ourselves to pause, even when we’re doing everything right?

In Kenya, rest can feel like a distant luxury. We live in a society where every move, every decision, and every shilling spent is driven by the fear of uncertainty. Rest is not always a reward for hard work; sometimes, it feels like a risk. The underlying anxiety that if we stop, even just for a moment, we might lose everything can overshadow our ability to truly pause.

For many, rest is not a given, but a gamble. In a country where nothing is guaranteed, and survival often means holding on by the thinnest thread, finding peace of mind seems like a far-off dream. Even with the strides some people make toward stability, the constant tug-of-war between short-term pleasures and long-term security keeps them from truly feeling secure enough to rest.

The Emotional Toll of Constant Preparation

Think about a young woman who has scrimped and saved to buy a boda to supplement her income. But instead of investing in that bike, she takes on the responsibility of paying her younger siblings’ school fees. She’s doing the right thing—investing in her family’s future—but at what cost to her own? The dream of financial independence gets pushed aside as the weight of others’ needs demands her attention.

Similarly, a teacher who has worked tirelessly to save for a long-awaited trip to Mombasa after ten years of hard work decides to use the funds instead for a relative’s unexpected hospital bill. For her, rest is again deferred. Her self-care, her joy, must wait.

Then, there’s the couple who, after years of working toward an upgrade to their rental home, holds off on the purchase due to the looming fear of layoffs in their sector. The security they’re working toward is fragile, and every decision is clouded by the uncertainty of what tomorrow might bring.

These examples aren’t isolated; they reflect the reality that many Kenyans face daily. The dream of owning a home, taking a vacation, or buying something as simple as a set of braces may seem out of reach for many because the pressing needs of the present dominate their lives.

The Constant Struggle Between Pleasure and Security

In a country where financial instability is ever-present, pleasure often takes a back seat to responsibility. For some, a basic need might be a consistent supply of sanitary towels. The idea of buying an extra pair of shoes, or going for a weekend getaway, may seem like an indulgence in a world where the fundamentals of life feel like a constant battle.

For others, the dream might be something bigger: a piece of land to call their own, or a car to ease the burdens of public transport. But as the prices of land continue to rise, many question if the choice they made—saving for land—was even the right one. With no guarantee of a job tomorrow, was it worth it to delay the purchase of a car that could have made their life more manageable?

The dilemma is real. Financial insecurity doesn't just impact our savings; it shapes our dreams. It forces us to rewrite our expectations of what a “good life” looks like, and in many cases, it delays joy. The things we truly desire are often replaced by the things we feel we need to survive.

A Good Life in a World of Scarcity

But what does it mean to build a "good life" in Kenya? Is it about accumulating wealth? Is it about having the ability to enjoy experiences without the fear that something will go wrong if you stop working for just one moment?

A good life, for many, is simply having enough to meet the basic needs of survival—food, shelter, and healthcare. For others, it’s about achieving a balance between these basics and the aspirations that come with a growing economy. But even when the basics are met, there’s still the constant pressure to do more, to save more, to plan for a future that’s always just out of reach.

The choice between joy and responsibility doesn’t come without its own sense of guilt. Should you invest in your health by buying things like braces, or do you put that money toward ensuring a better future for your children? Should you take that trip you’ve dreamed about, or should you stay home, knowing that any unexpected emergency could wipe out your savings?

Striking a Balance: Small Joys and Big Responsibilities

So, how can we strike a balance between rest and responsibility? How do we know when it’s okay to pause and when we need to keep pushing forward? Here are a few practical steps to consider:

  1. Set Priorities, Not Perfection: Acknowledge that some things are more important than others. If it’s a choice between a vital family emergency or buying that luxury item, the family emergency often has to take precedence. But when it comes to small joys—like grabbing a coffee with a friend or treating yourself to something small—those moments are often worth the investment in your mental health.

  2. Build Joy into Your Routine: Rather than putting off all pleasures for an uncertain future, make space for small joys in your day-to-day life. It could be a walk in the park, an impromptu meal out with friends, or watching a movie you’ve been looking forward to. These little moments can bring balance to the constant tension of life’s responsibilities.

  3. Know What You Can Delay and What You Can’t: Some things, like supporting a loved one through a tough time, can’t wait. But others, like buying a new phone or delaying a simple treat, might not be worth sacrificing your happiness for. The coffee date that you’ve been postponing for weeks? That might be something you should prioritize, because those moments of connection are irreplaceable and restore your energy.

  4. Assess the Cost of Delaying Joy: Is the cost of delaying this small joy worth the potential consequences? If it’s a decision that will leave you mentally drained or disconnected from your loved ones, it may not be worth waiting. Life is about balance, and too much delay can lead to burnout or regret.

  5. Make Room for Spontaneity: Often, the best moments happen when we allow ourselves to be spontaneous. Whether it’s taking an unplanned trip or splurging on an experience, these unstructured moments can be the antidote to the constant pressure of planning and saving.

  6. Small Steps Toward Financial Freedom: While it’s important to save and plan, remember that enjoying the present doesn’t have to mean neglecting the future. Look for ways to balance both, like putting aside a small amount for fun alongside your long-term savings.

The Reality of Choosing Joy

In a country like Kenya, where so much feels uncertain, it’s easy to feel guilty for prioritizing rest. But when we fail to take breaks, we risk burning out before we ever enjoy the fruits of our labor. Choosing to pause, whether it's for a coffee date or an afternoon to yourself, is not a luxury—it’s an essential part of building a good life. For rest is not just about the body; it’s about restoring the soul.

And in the end, it’s often the small moments—those seemingly insignificant choices—that add up to a life well-lived.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Know Thyself: The Quiet Power of Naming Your Nature

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” — Carl Jung We live in a culture that equates good intentions with goodness, and ambition with ability. But very few people in Kenya—or anywhere—truly know what they are made of. We can name our qualifications and our dreams. But ask someone their vices or virtues, and they hesitate. Worse, they lie. The Danger of Self-Unawareness In Kenya today, many of us are wandering through life making choices—big, small, and irreversible—without truly understanding who we are. We end up in jobs we despise, relationships we shouldn’t be in, or positions of influence we aren’t emotionally or ethically equipped for. And at the root of this dysfunction is a simple truth: we don’t know ourselves. This is not a spiritual or abstract dilemma. It’s a deeply practical one. To know oneself is to understand your vices, your virtues, your weaknesses, and your strengths—not in a vague sense, but in detail. Let’s ge...

The Loud Silence: Why Kenya Is Drowning in Noise—and What It's Costing Us

  “Beware the bareness of a busy life,” Socrates once said. But what about the loudness of a distracted one? From matatus blaring vulgar music, to church keshas echoing through residential estates, to restaurants where conversation is a fight against speakers—it seems Kenya has made noise the background of everyday life. But what is this obsession with sound? What is all this noise trying to drown out? Noise as Culture, But Also as Coping Let’s be clear: noise has always had a place in Kenyan culture. Luo benga, Kikuyu folk tunes, Luhya drumming, Swahili taarab… music and sound are part of celebration, spirituality, and storytelling. But what we’re experiencing now is different. What we’re hearing now is not cultural expression—it’s emotional avoidance. The Psychology of Noise: What Are We Running From? 1. Noise and Loneliness We live in a time of increasing isolation. Nairobi apartments are filled with single occupants. Friendships are transactional. Family members drift emo...

The Great Kenyan Home Ownership Madness: Dreams vs. Reality

Owning a home is a big dream for many Kenyans, but somewhere along the way, practicality has been thrown out the window. Too many people, driven by childhood aspirations or societal expectations, are constructing massive houses only to end up living like misers within them. Let’s break down why this trend makes little sense and what smarter, more sustainable homeownership looks like. The Harsh Reality of Owning a Big House in Kenya Many Kenyans, especially those who grew up in humble backgrounds, grew up being told to “dream big.” Unfortunately, this has translated into building unnecessarily large houses, often with rooms that remain unused, multiple verandahs gathering dust, and massive balconies that no one actually sits on. These houses cost millions to build, yet within a few years, the owners are struggling to maintain them, regretting their choices as they pour more money into renovations. If you need proof, just look at how many old houses in Nairobi remain unsold. No one wants...