When I was a little girl, I had these hand-me-down shoes that I loved. I wore them everywhere. Anywhere, really. I don't think I cared whether they were appropriate for where I was going. If those were the shoes I wanted to wear, then those were the shoes I was wearing. And when they became too small, I still didn't want to let them go. I would squeeze my feet into them and somehow convince myself that they still fit. I imagine an adult looking at me and thinking, Child, these shoes are clearly too small. Please take them off. But I loved them. And I think about those shoes sometimes when I hear us talk about things like seasons, letting go, releasing, creating room, moving on. Usually, when we talk about letting go, there is something wrong with the thing we're letting go of. It has become toxic. It doesn't serve us anymore. It is holding us back. We have outgrown it. We need to make room for something better. And yes, sometimes that is exactly what letting go looks li...
Alcohol has long been part of Kenyan life. But how it is made, consumed, and understood has shifted dramatically across time. From its ritualistic, sacred roots in indigenous communities to its transformation into a widespread social escape and public health crisis, Kenya's relationship with alcohol is deeply tied to its history, politics, economy, and cultural evolution. This piece traces how we got here — not in metaphor, but in fact. 1. Pre-Colonial Period: Brewing and Ritual Long before colonization, communities across Kenya practiced traditional brewing. Alcohol was not only accepted but woven into social and spiritual life. Different ethnic groups brewed various fermented drinks: Muratina among the Kikuyu, made from wild fruits and honey. Busaa , common among the Luhya and Kalenjin, made from fermented maize and millet. Mnazi (palm wine), tapped by Mijikenda and coastal communities. Uji ya Kigage , a mildly alcoholic porridge used in both everyday and ceremonial contexts. T...