KenyaOnAShoeString: Real Advice for Real Kenyans

There are days when I wonder whether the writer of Ecclesiastes was onto something when he sighed that there is nothing new under the sun . At the time, it must have sounded like resignation. A philosophical shrug. But lately, it feels less like an ancient lament and more like a modern diagnosis. I keep finding myself suspended in a haze of déjà vu — not in the mystical, life-has-a-hidden-meaning way, but in the weary, haven’t I seen this before? way. Books that once thrilled me now feel like rewritten copies of each other. Music releases sound like echoes of echoes. Cinema has become a carousel of remakes, sequels, and universes. Even ordinary experiences — a restaurant, a holiday, a new trend — seem to come prepackaged in familiar shapes. It’s not that people have stopped creating. It’s that everything is arriving so quickly, and so often, that our senses no longer have time to recover. We are being fed variety in form but sameness in spirit. Modern life accelerates experience ...

To watch a ballerina rise to principal dancer, a gymnast bend physics to her will, study a polyglot perfecting pronunciation across languages, or an academician write with generational clarity is to witness not just talent — but years of intentional sacrifice. These are not casual efforts. These are lives shaped by years — sometimes decades — of repetition, refinement, and surrender to the process. Mastery is a long road. It demands humility, sacrifice, obsession, and discipline. In many parts of the world, this is understood and honored. In contrast, many Kenyans seem to struggle with the idea of pursuing excellence for its own sake. We prize quick wins, virality, and visibility, often mistaking them for mastery. There is a growing entitlement, especially among creators, professionals, and young entrepreneurs. We want to be paid for mediocrity, compensated for showing up, and crowned for effort. This isn’t just a personal failure — it’s a cultural crisis. The Myth of Instant Geniu...

When a child says they want to be a teacher, a mother, a secretary, and then a singer — all in one lifetime — we smile. We find it adorable. Imaginative. But somewhere along the way, we stop smiling. We start demanding clarity, cohesion, a single label. We forget how expansive it is to be alive. In a world obsessed with consistency, we have made change look like betrayal. We question those who shift — in career, in belief, in appearance, in voice. Influencers are called sellouts. Politicians are labelled flip-floppers. Everyday people feel ashamed for outgrowing dreams that no longer fit. But what if we honored change as a natural part of being human? Why We Struggle With Change From a young age, we are taught to specialize, to narrow down, to “figure it out.” The Kenyan education system reinforces this with its early sorting into career tracks. Society praises clarity — the student who knew they wanted to be a doctor since they were six, the entrepreneur who never wavered. And yet, ve...