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...
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...