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...
Saturday is not just a day; it’s an institution, a sacred ritual, a non-negotiable asset in the life of every Kenyan. It’s the one day you get to reclaim your time, your peace, your sanity, and most importantly, your future. Yet, some of you are out here trading it away like sugarcane in a traffic jam. Let’s break it down, activity by activity, and show you why sacrificing this day is a robbery—committed by either your employer or by your own bad decisions. 1. Weddings: Where Futures Are Built (Or Broken) Saturday is for weddings, and in Kenya, a wedding is not just a wedding—it’s a financial networking seminar in disguise. You’re not just eating pilau and pretending to like the bride’s gown; you’re rubbing shoulders with people who might hire you, invest in your side hustle, or introduce you to a golden opportunity. Moral of the story: That salary your employer gives you? A single handshake at a wedding could bring you a contract that triples it. But you’re here working on a Saturday...