Our attention is finite, yet we spend it everywhere but where it matters. This is not a moral failure. It is a structural one. Attention economics is the idea that in a world overflowing with information, human attention becomes the scarce resource. Whoever captures it, holds power. Over time, this has reshaped not just markets, but inner lives. What we notice. What we ignore. What we can tolerate. What we can no longer sit with. For a long time, people warned that television would rot our brains. In hindsight, television looks almost generous. A show required you to stay for forty minutes. A film asked for two hours. A detective story invited you to notice details, to remember names, to hold multiple threads in your mind at once. You watched. You followed. You waited. Listening to music meant staying long enough to learn lyrics. Reading meant sitting with confusion until meaning arrived. Writing a poem meant wrestling with language, not skimming it. Even boredom had a purpose—it ...
Kenyans are some of the most “hardworking” people you’ll ever meet—at least by our own standards. We open early. We close late. We stay on our feet for 10 hours. We invest in stalls, shop decor, uniforms. We show up. But are we really working hard , or just working long ? It’s a difficult question, but an important one. Because the real measure of hard work isn’t just effort—it’s care. It’s curiosity. It’s the willingness to understand your customer, stretch your thinking, and go beyond routine. Scenario 1: The Liquor Store That Never Asks In Nairobi’s estates, liquor stores are everywhere. Picture one in Kinoo. A man walks in, clearly about to host people—he buys multiple bottles, some mixers, maybe even ice. The shopkeeper packs his items and tells him the total. Transaction over. But what if the conversation went differently? “Mnaenda out ama kuna bash?” “Ah, kuna bash kwa nyumba.” “Uko sawa na ice ama unahitaji zingine? Na maybe ka-vape ama soft drinks kwa wasee hawatumii?”_ Inst...