KenyaOnAShoeString: Real Advice for Real Kenyans

For the past month, I’ve been watching Netflix — something I rarely do. I don’t subscribe to entertainment platforms; I don’t binge shows; I don’t keep up. But this month, I scrolled, sampled, and let myself be carried through the endless conveyor belt of content. And somewhere between dating shows, scripted drama, and predictable plots, I realized something unsettling: so much of what we call “entertainment” isn’t reflecting life — it’s scripting it. The stories may look different, but the messaging is the same. A dating show in Los Angeles echoes one in Brazil, which mirrors one filmed in South Africa. And the formula hardly shifts: alcohol, tension, betrayal, temptation, chaos. Reality TV is not reality — it’s a machine of engineered dysfunction dressed as modern love. What surprised me wasn’t the drama. It was the consistency. Why do all these shows rely on the same emotional ingredients? Why is alcohol a permanent character? Why is infidelity an expectation rather than a...

Words are powerful — until they meet history. No matter how eloquently we explain, justify, or charm, there comes a point where speech cannot undo what behavior has already written. We live in a time where words move fast — apologies trend, promises multiply, and image is currency. But behavior is slower, heavier, and truer. It’s the record of who we’ve been when no one is watching. And once behavior leaves its imprint — on people, on relationships, on trust — talk alone can’t erase it. The Illusion of Words We’re raised to believe in the redemptive power of speech. Say sorry. Explain yourself. Give reasons. Craft the right narrative. But words without changed behavior are like perfume over smoke — pleasant for a moment, but the air still burns. You can talk your way into admiration, even forgiveness. But not out of consequence. Behavior is a form of truth that language can only circle, never rewrite. The friend who always says they’ll do better but doesn’t. The leader who apolog...