What Would Life Look Like If We Allowed Ourselves to Ask Better Questions?

Curiosity is alive in Kenya — but it is restless, shallow, and often wasted. We ask questions every day, but most of them don’t take us anywhere. Listen to the radio in a matatu and you’ll hear it: someone calling in to debate whether it’s acceptable to date your friend’s ex. Scroll through social media and you’ll find endless threads about celebrity drama or political insults. Even in offices, the loudest questions are often: “Who annoyed the boss today?” or “When is the next team-building?”

We are curious, yes — but about things that rarely stretch us, rarely free us, rarely move us forward.

But what if the problem isn’t curiosity itself? What if the real issue is how we phrase our curiosity?

How Curiosity Gets Killed Early

From childhood, Kenyans are told: “Usihoji sana.” Don’t question too much. A child who asks “Why?” too often is labeled stubborn. A worker who questions a system is branded difficult. A citizen who questions leadership is told to “respect authority.”

We learn, slowly and silently, to mute our curiosity.

And yet, curiosity is not something you can truly kill. It mutates. It redirects. It finds a way out — but often in the easiest, shallowest ways. So instead of asking, “How can we make our public schools thrive?” we ask, “Which is the best private school to enroll my kids in?”

Instead of, “What does a fulfilling career look like for me?” we ask, “Which job pays the most this year?”

We trade depth for shortcuts.

Asking Better Questions

The way you phrase a question determines the kind of answer you get.

Take the question almost every Kenyan has sighed at some point: “Why is life in Kenya so hard?”

That question, as it is, leads nowhere. It is too big, too vague, too emotionally charged. It collapses everything into a wall of despair.

But what if we broke it down?

• If it is financial, then ask: “Why are so many foreigners able to come into Kenya and build successful businesses while locals struggle?” That question forces you to notice patterns of regulation, culture, and risk appetite.

• If it is work-related, then ask: “Why do so many Kenyans stay in jobs they hate for years without pivoting?” That opens up discussions about fear, lack of safety nets, and our relationship with risk.

• If it is about governance, then ask: “Why do we keep electing leaders who do not transform our lives?” And better yet: “What would it take for us to vote differently?”

Each reframed question doesn’t just point to pain. It points to a place where action, however small, is possible.

Everyday Curiosity: What We Ask, What We Could Ask

On the radio, the trending question is: “Would you date a man who earns less than you?”
But the deeper, better question is: “Why do we measure love and partnership almost entirely in financial terms?”

In WhatsApp groups, someone always asks: “Who has the latest gossip?”
But the better curiosity might be: “Why do people’s failures and successes matter so much to me?”

In offices, we ask: “When will management increase salaries?”
But what if we asked: “What would it take for me to become indispensable in this company — or free enough to leave it?”

At family gatherings, an auntie will ask: “When are you getting married?”
But what if the better curiosity was: “What does the other side of life — singlehood — actually look like, and why are we so afraid to talk about it?”

Same spaces. Same contexts. Different depth.

Missed Opportunities: When Curiosity Goes Nowhere

Our shallow curiosity shows up everywhere.

• Betting addiction: We ask, “Which team will win tonight?” instead of, “Why do I feel betting is my only path to wealth, and what would it take to build sustainable income?”

• Endless certificates: We ask, “Which diploma will make me more employable?” instead of, “Why do I keep collecting papers without clarity on the skills that actually make me valuable?”

• Politics: We ask, “Who insulted who in Parliament?” instead of, “Why do we allow leadership to be reduced to entertainment, and what would it take for politics to actually serve us?”

These are not small misses. They are entire life detours. They cost us money, time, and sometimes hope.

Practical Curiosity: On the Ground

Better questions don’t just apply to society. They change our personal lives.

• For the fresh graduate: Instead of asking, “Where can I find a job?” ask, “What small skills can I build now that will make me valuable regardless of where I work?”

• For someone in debt: Instead of asking, “How do I get out of debt fast?” ask, “Why do I keep finding myself here, and what would it take to change the habits underneath?”

• For a mid-career professional: Instead of asking, “When will I finally get promoted?” ask, “Do I even want to climb this ladder, or is there another path that fits my life better?”

Notice how the second question in each case slows you down. It asks you to reflect, not just react.

What Life Could Look Like

If we allowed ourselves to ask better questions, maybe our universities would produce thinkers, not just graduates. Maybe our media houses would host conversations that shape the nation, not just entertain it. Maybe we’d design lives that are intentional, not lives that are constantly patched together out of survival.

Because here is the uncomfortable truth: a society that does not know how to ask better questions will always be trapped living with the wrong answers.

So maybe the better question for us as Kenyans is not: “Why are things this way?”

It is: “What would it take for us to imagine differently?”