Skip to main content

Financially Impressive: The Invisible Emotional Contracts Between Kenyan Parents and Their Children

If a child grows up to be kind, healthy, responsible, self-sufficient, and decent—but not wealthy—has the sacrifice failed? Most people would instinctively say no. Yet many families behave as though the answer is yes. Not openly, of course. No parent sits their child down and says, "I didn't raise you to be happy. I raised you to be rich." But expectations have a way of revealing themselves. In comparisons with more successful relatives. In questions about promotions, land, and home ownership. In the disappointment that hangs in the air when a child is doing well enough to survive but not well enough to transform the family's fortunes. And perhaps nowhere is this tension more visible than in Kenya, where sacrifice is often treated as the highest form of love. Parents sacrifice for their children. Older siblings sacrifice for younger siblings. Entire generations sacrifice in the hope that the next one will live better. But what happens when sacrifice quietly becomes an...
Post a Comment

The Unseen Cost of Survival Mode

Survival is a word that carries dignity. To survive is to endure. To push through storms, scarcity, and chaos, and still stand. For many of us, it is the baseline of living: paycheck to paycheck, rent to rent, debt to debt.

But survival, as noble as it sounds, has a hidden cost. And it is one we rarely calculate because we are too busy moving from one crisis to the next. Survival mode is not free—it drains imagination, steals joy, and shrinks the horizon of what we believe is possible.

What Living in Survival Mode Does to the Mind

When every day is about making it to the next, the brain rewires itself to focus only on the short term. Tomorrow becomes invisible. Dreams that once felt urgent are folded away in the dusty corners of the mind. Why plan for five years if you aren’t sure how you’ll pay this month’s bills? Why risk starting something new if you can barely hold on to what is in your hands?

In this way, survival mode slowly erodes possibility. It convinces us that smallness is wisdom, that shrinking is safety.

What It Does to Society

A society full of people in survival mode cannot dream collectively. We do not demand better systems, because who has the time or energy to protest when the landlord is waiting for rent? We don’t invest in long-term change because the return is too distant. Even corruption thrives here—people make deals, look away, and excuse theft because “at least I get something small to survive.”

Survival becomes not just a personal state but a national culture.

The Generational Toll

Perhaps the most tragic cost is what survival mode does across generations. Children raised by parents always in survival mode inherit the scripts: keep your head down, don’t risk too much, play safe, secure the bare minimum. The cycle continues, not because people lack talent or intelligence, but because imagination has been mortgaged to survival.

Pockets of Thriving in the Midst of Survival

The truth is, survival mode may not end for many. Our economies, our systems, our politics—often they conspire to keep the majority in this state. But even in survival, one can carve out tiny windows of thriving: a weekend walk in the park, reading a book, trying something new even if it scares you. These small acts are resistance—they keep the soul alive in a world that wants to reduce us to mere existence.

Reflective Questions:

  • What has survival mode cost you in your own life?

  • If you could reclaim one thing it has taken—joy, creativity, rest, relationships—what would it be?

  • And perhaps most haunting of all: what vision of yourself has been lost to the grind of simply surviving?

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

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 ...
Post a Comment
Read more

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...
Post a Comment
Read more

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...
4 comments
Read more