KenyaOnAShoeString

There was a time when companionship did not need to be searched for. It was not something you worked at , scheduled weeks in advance, or justified with a reason. It existed quietly, built into the structure of life itself. In many Kenyan communities, companionship was inherited before it was chosen. People grew up among the same faces, attended the same ceremonies, worked the same land, worshipped in the same spaces. Marriage did not scatter people; it anchored them. Women married into homes where other women were already present—sisters-in-law, neighbors, age-mates—often navigating the same stages of life at the same time. Men remained near their childhood friends, their brothers, their cousins. Friendship was not curated; it was ambient. You did not have to explain why you were visiting. You did not have to perform usefulness. You did not have to be interesting. Presence was enough. Companionship was not a special category of relationship. It was simply life unfolding alongside...

We are living in an era where the loudest anthem is: "I’m doing me.” It’s on our timelines, in our music, in our conversations. We’re constantly told: “Do what makes you happy,” “Protect your peace,” “Cut them off,” “No one owes anyone anything,” and “I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks.” It sounds liberating — and in some ways, it is. For generations burdened by shame, tradition, and repression, choosing yourself can feel like rebellion, even survival. But something else is happening. A creeping culture of emotional detachment, hyper-individualism, and social numbness is taking root. And while it’s easy to chant “IDGAF” as a form of empowerment, it’s much harder to see when this same ideology begins to fracture communities, normalize selfishness, and erode our shared humanity. When Individualism Stops Being Empowering We’ve long been taught to conform — to the family name, to religion, to the community’s expectations. So when the pendulum swung and people started reclai...

It starts with a click. A friend forwards a link to a reading group, a chama, a Zoom workshop, a parenting circle. You join. You read a few messages. You mute the group. You never contribute. Never attend a session. Never show up. And you're not alone. Across Kenya—and perhaps globally—we are seeing a strange but widespread cultural habit: joining groups we never participate in . From WhatsApp reading clubs to civic forums to alumni communities, there’s a sea of people who are present but passive. It seems harmless… but it’s not. This article is a mirror to that quiet behavior—and an invitation to see what it’s really costing us. 1. The Silent Collapse of Collective Action Kenya has long depended on community-driven efforts: harambees, savings groups, cooperative societies, youth initiatives. But these only work when members participate. When 50 join but only 5 engage, things fall apart. Group admins burn out. Ideas die. Communities disband. And slowly, we stop be...