Skip to main content

What’s Guiding You? Why Every Kenyan Needs a Personal Philosophy

“One’s philosophy is not best expressed in words; it is expressed in the choices one makes.” — Eleanor Roosevelt

Ask someone on the street in Nairobi, Nakuru, or Kakamega:
“What is your personal life philosophy?”

You’ll likely get silence, or a shrug, or a vague answer like “just trying to survive.”
And yet, the truth is—we’re all already living by some philosophy.
It may not be written or thought through, but your repeated choices are the loudest expression of your beliefs.

So the question is not: Do you have a life philosophy?
The real question is: Is it one you chose? Or one that circumstance chose for you?

 Why Many Kenyans Don’t Live by a Clear Philosophy

1. The Tyranny of Survival

In a country where millions live below the poverty line, there’s often no time or mental space to think about deeper things. When rent is due, school fees are late, and fuel prices are rising, philosophy can feel like a luxury.

But here's the risk:
If you don’t shape your beliefs, your struggles will.
You’ll start doing whatever works, not what’s right. And slowly, you become someone you no longer recognize.

2. Inherited Scripts, Unexamined

Many Kenyans live by cultural or religious scripts passed down from parents, elders, or churches. But those scripts aren’t always questioned. Some reinforce tribalism, sexism, corruption, or blind loyalty.

Without examination, tradition becomes a cage—not a compass.

3. No Visible Models

We rarely hear leaders talk about their moral frameworks. Success is often tied to money, followers, or power—not to clarity of thought or depth of principle. When we don't see people living by values, we stop believing it's possible.

 Kenyan Case Studies: Lives Shaped by Philosophy

🌿 Wangari Maathai: The Power of Consistent, Moral Resistance

Wangari Maathai’s life was guided by a fierce commitment to environmental justice, nonviolence, and dignity for the poor. Her Green Belt Movement was more than tree-planting—it was an act of political rebellion grounded in deeply held beliefs.

When the government tried to silence her, beat her, imprison her—she stayed rooted in her philosophy. In her own words:

“You cannot protect the environment unless you empower people… and you cannot empower people unless you educate them.”

Her philosophy:

Dignity begins with care for the earth and its people.

That belief cost her comfort. But it won her the Nobel Peace Prize—and more importantly, a clean conscience.

🎓 Boniface Mwangi: The Ethics of Disruption

Activist Boniface Mwangi could have stayed a successful photojournalist. Instead, he chose the path of resistance—exposing corruption, organizing protests, and running for office. His work stems from a clear personal philosophy: that silence in the face of injustice is complicity.

Even when his family received death threats, he continued speaking. Why? Because he had already decided: truth is worth more than safety.

His philosophy:

I am not free if I cannot speak. I will not live a quiet life built on quiet lies.

🛻 Jecinta: A Boda Boda Mechanic with Boundaries

Jecinta is a 27-year-old woman in Kitale who runs a small motorcycle repair stall. She’s one of the few women in her trade. Several men have offered to “help her grow” if she’d sleep with them. She refuses.

“I know myself,” she says. “Once I start compromising, it will never stop.”

Her philosophy:

My dignity is not for sale—even if business is slow.

She may never trend on Twitter, but her quiet refusal is a stand that echoes louder than applause.

 How to Craft a Personal Philosophy

Let’s bring this home. What does it look like to build a personal philosophy—one worth living and dying for?

 Step 1: Reflect on Defining Moments

Ask:

  • When did I make a hard choice I’m still proud of?

  • When did I ignore my gut—and pay for it later?

  • What experiences cracked me open, changed me, or humbled me?

These are mirror moments. They tell you who you are underneath the noise.

 Step 2: Identify Your Core Values

These are the values worth protecting even when no one is watching:

  • Integrity: I tell the truth even when it costs me.

  • Compassion: I do not rise by stepping on others.

  • Courage: I speak up when others stay silent.

  • Discipline: I don’t do what feels good—I do what’s right.

  • Faith: I believe there’s more to life than just what I can see.

Pick 3–5. Write them down. Guard them like treasure.

 Step 3: Test Them in Daily Life

Life will push your philosophy to the wall.

  • Will you cheat when you're desperate?

  • Will you gossip when you're angry?

  • Will you stay silent when something must be said?

A personal philosophy only matters when it costs something. That's when it becomes real.

 Step 4: Build a Life that Reinforces It

Don’t rely on willpower—build a system:

  • Choose friends who reflect your values.

  • Work in spaces that don’t demand moral compromise.

  • Use journaling, prayer, or therapy to stay aligned.

Your environment should support, not sabotage, your values.

 Final Reflection: What Are You Living For?

You already have a philosophy.
The question is: Did you choose it?
And if not—when will you?

Because in the end, it’s not your dreams, background, or beliefs that define you.
It’s your repeated choices.
And those choices will either build a life you respect—or a life you regret.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Daniel Arap Moi — The Shadow and the Shepherd: A Deep Dive into Kenya’s Second President

If Jomo Kenyatta was the founding father, Daniel Toroitich Arap Moi was the long-reigning stepfather — sometimes protective, often punitive, and almost always enigmatic. He ruled Kenya for 24 years, the longest of any president to date. To some, he was the gentle teacher, Mwalimu , who kept the nation from tearing apart. To others, he was the architect of a surveillance state, a master of patronage and fear, the man who perfected repression through calm. This is a portrait of Daniel Arap Moi — not just as a ruler, but as a man shaped by modest beginnings, colonial violence, and the hunger for order in a chaotic time. Early Life: The Boy from Sacho Daniel Arap Moi was born on September 2, 1924, in Kurieng’wo, Baringo, in Kenya’s Rift Valley. He came from the Tugen sub-group of the Kalenjin community. His father died when he was just four. Raised by his uncle, Moi’s early life was marked by hardship, discipline, and deep Christian missionary influence. He trained as a teacher at Tambach ...

Not All Disabilities Are Visible

Some pain does not leave a mark. Some exhaustion does not show in the face. Some people are carrying weights that have no name, no diagnosis, and no outward sign. We are used to recognizing suffering only when it can be pointed to — a bandage, a crutch, a cast, a wound. Something we can see. But the human interior is its own world, and often, the heaviest struggles live there. The Quiet Work of Holding Yourself Together There are those who walk into a room smiling, contributing, present — and yet they are holding themselves together one breath at a time. Not because they are pretending, but because they have learned to live with what would overwhelm another person. Some battles are fought inside the mind: The slow grey of depression The relentless hum of anxiety The sudden, unbidden memory that takes the body back to a place it never wants to return The deep fatigue that sleep does not cure And yet, life continues. The world moves. The dishes still need to be wa...

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...