I have been dealing with a problem in my foot for almost two weeks. This might not sound particularly dramatic. It isn't cancer. It isn't an emergency. It isn't even the kind of pain that stops me from going about my day. Which is perhaps why I found myself hesitating. You see, I am a walker. Not the kind of person who takes a stroll every now and then. I walk for two to three hours most days. Walking is how I think, how I clear my head, and how I make sense of the world. If there is one part of my body I should be willing to invest in, it is probably my feet. Yet when I started calling podiatrists in Nairobi, I found myself doing mental gymnastics. The cheapest consultation fee I found was KES 5,000. Consultation. Not treatment. Not scans. Not medication. Just the privilege of finding out what might be wrong. By the time everything was done, the bill could easily reach KES 15,000 or KES 20,000. And suddenly I found myself wondering whether I really needed a podiatrist. May...
We live in a world that prizes exclusivity — not just in material goods, but in matters of the heart. From romantic relationships to best friends, we’ve built emotional territories: this one is mine, that one is yours. But what if this idea is flawed? What if human beings are wired not for emotional possession, but for layered, plural, and dynamic connections? This article explores the tension between emotional connection and exclusivity — and questions whether our current cultural expectations align with how humans actually experience closeness. 1. The Roots of Emotional Exclusivity Many of us grow up learning that love, loyalty, and intimacy must be contained. We hear things like: “You can only have one best friend.” “If you love someone, you shouldn’t need anyone else.” “Emotional cheating is still cheating.” These statements reflect a belief that deep connection is a zero-sum game: that love given elsewhere is love taken away. But the heart doesn’t function like a bank account. Con...