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The Privilege of Being Able to Respond to Reality

Perhaps one of the most overlooked privileges is not wealth itself, but having enough margin in your life to respond to reality. Over the last few years, we have become fluent in the language of privilege, speaking easily about financial privilege, pretty privilege, racial privilege, passport privilege, educational privilege and social privilege, and in doing so we have become increasingly aware that people do not all start from the same place and that some doors open more easily for some than for others. Yet there is one form of privilege that seems to receive far less attention, and that is the privilege of being able to do something with the information you have, not simply knowing, but acting, because the truth is that information alone changes very little. We like to imagine that if people only knew better, they would do better, and entire industries are built around this assumption, from self-help books and documentaries to podcasts, awareness campaigns, public health initiative...
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Poverty Is Not Permission

“Poverty is not a vice. But what you do with it might be.” — Unknown

There’s a dangerous, quietly accepted narrative that’s taken root in many parts of Kenya: if you’re poor, you’re exempt from responsibility. That being poor gives you moral immunity. That the system is so broken, so rigged, that all standards of decency and dignity are no longer required of you.

We see it in small things and large things. The loudness in matatus that bleeds into chaos. The trash thrown carelessly into rivers or roadsides. The apartment blocks painted once—and never again. The total absence of civic responsibility in many public spaces.

But here’s the hard truth: poverty is not a license to live poorly.

Where We Confuse Things

There’s a difference between being wealthy, rich, and living well.

  • Being wealthy is about generational access, systems, security.

  • Being rich is about accumulation—money, assets, disposable income.

  • Living well is about intentionality. Cleanliness, order, kindness. How you treat yourself, your space, your body, your community.

You can be poor and live well. You can be rich and live horribly.

Living well is choosing to bathe your child even if the water is fetched. To sweep your compound even if it’s a single-room mabati house. To not throw trash from the window just because “this estate is already dirty.” To use contraception because you understand the weight of raising children in a struggling system.

These things are not about money. They are about values.

The Dangerous Excuses

We hear them all the time:

  • "Hii nchi si yetu." (This country isn’t ours.)

  • "Sisi maskini hatuna sauti." (We poor people have no voice.)

  • "Why should I care when no one cares about me?"

But these statements, repeated often enough, don’t liberate—they imprison. They become the mantras that justify neglect, abandonment, chaos. They perpetuate the very conditions we’re trying to escape.

The System Is Broken, Yes

Let’s be clear. The system is flawed. It’s unfair. Opportunities are unequal. Education, healthcare, safety—unevenly distributed.

But dignity is not a privilege. It is a human right. And it’s also a personal responsibility.

We cannot wait for the system to fix itself before we start picking up after ourselves, treating others well, or protecting our bodies from unwanted pregnancies or STIs. Some things are always within our control.

So What Does Living Well Actually Mean?

  • It means sweeping your corridor even if your neighbor never does.

  • It means talking to your children with respect, even when stressed.

  • It means saying no to violence—physical, verbal, or sexual—even when angry.

  • It means buying a bar of soap even when it's your last coin, because hygiene is non-negotiable.

  • It means not blaming your neighbor, the government, or your landlord for everything.

It’s hard. But it’s also possible. And many people are already doing it—quietly, every day.

Let’s Be Honest

There are countless examples in Kenya of people living in poverty with incredible dignity: families that raise well-adjusted children in informal settlements; youth groups that clean up their neighborhoods; women who sell vegetables with more integrity than many CEOs.

We know these stories. Let’s highlight them more often.

But we must also call out the normalization of disorder, of moral collapse under the excuse of poverty. It is not only wrong—it is dangerous.

Closing Thought

The most radical act of resistance in a broken system might be this: to choose to live well anyway.

Mantra:
“Poverty is my circumstance, not my character.”

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