When I was a little girl, I had these hand-me-down shoes that I loved. I wore them everywhere. Anywhere, really. I don't think I cared whether they were appropriate for where I was going. If those were the shoes I wanted to wear, then those were the shoes I was wearing. And when they became too small, I still didn't want to let them go. I would squeeze my feet into them and somehow convince myself that they still fit. I imagine an adult looking at me and thinking, Child, these shoes are clearly too small. Please take them off. But I loved them. And I think about those shoes sometimes when I hear us talk about things like seasons, letting go, releasing, creating room, moving on. Usually, when we talk about letting go, there is something wrong with the thing we're letting go of. It has become toxic. It doesn't serve us anymore. It is holding us back. We have outgrown it. We need to make room for something better. And yes, sometimes that is exactly what letting go looks li...
Every day, Kenyans accept painfully low wages for their skills, experience, and time. Whether it's a translator taking KES 30,000 when the market rate is KES 60,000, a waiter working six days a week for KES 12,000, or a factory worker grinding for KES 100 per Saturday shift—these scenarios are far too common. The consequences of this widespread problem are serious: it depresses wages for everyone, normalizes exploitation, and keeps the majority of Kenyans in a cycle of financial struggle. But why do people accept these conditions? The reasons are complex and deeply ingrained in our society. Some of the biggest factors include: Desperation and Survival Mode – Bills have to be paid, children need food, and in a country with a high unemployment rate, any income feels better than no income. Lack of Salary Transparency – Employers take advantage of the fact that salaries are gatekept, meaning most people don’t even know their market worth. Low Self-Worth and Fear of Speaking Up – Man...