KenyaOnAShoeString: Real Advice for Real Kenyans

Kenyans are known for their warmth, charm, and ability to make friends anywhere. But once we share a space, it’s like the social contract gets torn up and tossed in the bin. Whether it’s in the matatu , the office, or right in our own homes, here are the everyday crimes we’ve all seen — and maybe even committed. 1. The Loud Music DJ Why keep your music to yourself when you can share it with the whole neighborhood? These are the people who think a matatu, estate courtyard, or office is their personal club. Bonus points if the speaker is cheap and adds that fuzzy shhhhhh sound in the background. And if it’s early morning gospel before coffee? That’s a direct attack. 2. The TikTok & Reels Without Earphones Crew It’s never just one video. It’s a marathon of TikTok's , Instagram Reels , and WhatsApp statuses — all on full volume. And of course, they’ll stop midway, shove the phone in your face, and say: “Angalia hii! Hii itakufurahisha.” Now you’ve lost three minutes of your...

When the rains began around April, I did something small but game-changing—I bought myself a pair of gumboots. Not the cute, trendy ones from Instagram ads. Just plain, functional boots. Every time the clouds threatened, I put them on, slipped my umbrella into my bag, and left the house without a second thought. Walking through puddles in the CBD while everyone else tiptoed around, I noticed the stares. Especially when the rain had stopped by midday and the sun was blazing, people would glance at me like I had missed the memo. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t worried about wet feet, slipping on pavements, or ruined shoes. I was dry, steady, and calm—ready for the season I was in. And that got me thinking: how many of us are fighting life’s rainstorms in sandals? How many of us are too focused on appearances, trends, or the opinions of others to gear up properly for our current season? The Right Tools Change Everything Having the right tools doesn’t just make life easier—it gives you con...

There’s something sobering about how life ushers us into new seasons—quietly at first, then all at once. Recently, I got braces. What I thought would just be a cosmetic fix quickly turned into a full lifestyle shift. Suddenly, I couldn’t eat the way I used to. The crunchy samosas from that butchery on my way home? Out. Roasted maize from the street corner? Forget it. Even brushing my teeth became a 10-minute routine involving special brushes, floss, mouthwash, and caution. But the hardest part wasn’t even the food. It was the little joys I used to give myself: grabbing an iced Americano and some chips after a long day, taking myself for nyama choma on a solo date. Now I have to think twice. What if that crunchy bite breaks a wire? What if I end up spending more at the dentist? And then there’s the constant dryness. I now carry Vaseline everywhere because my lips are always cracked. Between the bruises on my cheeks, the ache in my jaw, and the sacrifices in my diet—it’s not glamorous...