I am always late for work. There. I've said it. And the frustrating thing is that my lateness isn't caused by traffic or some unpredictable morning disaster. Most of the time, it is entirely my own doing. I wake up and make my coffee. Then I get back into bed, which is right by the window, cross my feet, face the window and slowly sip my coffee. And when I say slowly, I mean slowly. I look at the trees. I watch the birds. I feel the morning sun on my skin. Sometimes I just sit there with my thoughts. I really love these mornings. I've also noticed something else. When I give myself enough time in the morning, my body usually does what it needs to do. A slow morning often leads to a bowel movement, which, as far as I'm concerned, is one of the must-haves of starting my day. And so I find myself wishing for more time. More time to sit. More time to drink my coffee. More time to maybe get outside and do some yoga or mat Pilates on the grass while the sun is stil...
Mwai Kibaki often slips through the cracks of memory — not because he was invisible, but because his style was quiet, measured, and academic. A sharp contrast to the paternalism of Moi or the revolutionary tone of Kenyatta, Kibaki led like a man doing his job rather than building a legacy. But his impact on Kenya’s economic and institutional life is profound — and deeply complicated. This article explores Mwai Kibaki the man, the economist, the accidental reformer, and the reluctant politician — and how his presidency became a study in paradox: technocratic success shadowed by political violence. Early Life and Education: The Makerere Economist Born on November 15, 1931, in Gatuyaini, Othaya, Kibaki was raised in a devout Kikuyu family. Unlike Kenyatta or Moi, Kibaki didn’t carry the wounds of early loss or deep poverty — though his upbringing was modest. He attended Mang’u High School and later Makerere University in Uganda, where he studied economics, political science, and history. ...