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...
You’re excited. Your boss is sharing a big vision — expansion plans, revenue targets, new markets. It sounds impressive. Maybe even inspiring. You start seeing yourself as part of something grand. But somewhere in the quiet moments, you realize something: Just because the company is winning doesn’t mean you are. Your salary hasn’t changed. Your title hasn’t changed. Your workload has. You start to wonder — am I helping build a vision that has no space for mine? Poem (to keep the spirit of your other pieces): They built the dream, And I gave my days. They earned the billions, And I stayed the same. Now my rent is due, And their name is in the news. I forgot to dream my own dream While building someone else's. The Illusion of Shared Progress In Kenya, company branding can be seductive. We love to be associated with the “big names.” Safaricom, Equity, Google, KCB. There’s status in saying “I work there.” But here's the honest truth: Company growth is not employe...