KenyaOnAShoeString: Real Advice for Real Kenyans

We marvel at the wealth of dynasties abroad and wonder how empires are built. Yet right here in Kenya, we bury thriving businesses with our parents. From duka za mtaa to five-acre farms, from mitumba stalls to successful mjengo supply chains—legacies are abandoned, forgotten, or intentionally shut out. Why? “In Kenya, we hustle hard for our children—then leave them out of the very thing we built for them.” Walk through Gikomba, Toi Market, or any roadside vibanda and you’ll see stories of Kenyan resilience stitched into every tarp, stall, and sack of waru. Businesses started out of desperation became lifelines. A woman begins selling mutumba clothes under a tree, and twenty years later, she owns three stalls. A man starts farming in Eldoret on inherited land and now supplies a local supermarket. A couple opens a kiosk in Umoja and expands into a mini wholesale outlet. The narrative is inspiring—until it ends abruptly. Not because the business wasn’t viable. Not because there wasn’t po...

In Kenya, inheritance is a mystery novel with missing pages. Parents buy land, build businesses, invest in property, but when you ask about the future, suddenly, it's 'God’s plan.' The same parents who struggle day and night to provide will let their children battle through terrible jobs instead of integrating them into family businesses. Why? The Kenyan Parent’s Mindset: “I Suffered, You Must Suffer Too” If you ask many Kenyan parents why they don’t teach their children about their businesses—whether it’s a successful dairy farm, a well-stocked kiosk, or a thriving matatu business—the answer is often, “Si mimi nilianza na zero, hata wewe utaanza na zero.” Translation? “I started from nothing, so should you.” This suffering Olympics mindset is why many Kenyans graduate straight into struggle while their parents have assets that could cushion them. Farming is for ‘Shamba Boys’ but Not Their Children Take a family that owns acres of farmland and makes a solid income from far...