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 do you do when you’re told you’re dying—but you’re still needed? What do you say when the world tells you to ‘fight’ but your body is asking you to rest? In Kenya, death is still taboo. We bury it in jokes, euphemisms, and silence. We don’t prepare for it, even though it’s coming—for all of us. And for those who are sick—especially with terminal or chronic illnesses—it’s even harder to talk about. There’s pressure to "fight," to "be strong," to be a “cancer warrior.” But what if the bravest thing isn't fighting, but making peace? And yet, for a parent with young children, a single mother, a man providing for generations, how do you begin to make peace with death when you know the world may not be kind to those you leave behind? This is the emotional tension we must speak to. What Is Life, Really? The Kenyan Understanding vs. the Deeper Reality In Kenya, life is often defined by activity—movement, breath, work, hustle. That’s why we love the phrase “bor...