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...
What does it truly mean to be good? Socrates asked this question, and so did the writer of Proverbs. The ancient Greeks believed the examined life was the only one worth living. The Hebrew Bible implores us to walk humbly, do justly, and love mercy. Jesus said the greatest commandment is love—of God, and of neighbor. Yet despite all these teachings, human beings often seek shortcuts to virtue. In Kenya, where Christian devotion saturates the public and private sphere—where gospel music flows from every matatu, church gatherings abound, and Bibles decorate countless coffee tables—there remains a chasm between belief and moral action. Why does Christianity seem powerless to transform us? We are a nation flooded with religious ritual but starved of ethical reflection. You can go to a church service on Sunday, steal land on Monday, destroy a young woman’s life on Tuesday, and blame it all on the devil by Wednesday. We memorize scripture but forget to live it. We cry during worship son...