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We Are Willing to Risk Almost Everything for Money. We Are Just Unwilling to Risk Money for Almost Everything Else.

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...
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The Disappearance of Normal Adult Companionship

There was a time when companionship did not need to be searched for. It was not something you worked at , scheduled weeks in advance, or justified with a reason. It existed quietly, built into the structure of life itself. In many Kenyan communities, companionship was inherited before it was chosen. People grew up among the same faces, attended the same ceremonies, worked the same land, worshipped in the same spaces. Marriage did not scatter people; it anchored them. Women married into homes where other women were already present—sisters-in-law, neighbors, age-mates—often navigating the same stages of life at the same time. Men remained near their childhood friends, their brothers, their cousins. Friendship was not curated; it was ambient. You did not have to explain why you were visiting. You did not have to perform usefulness. You did not have to be interesting. Presence was enough. Companionship was not a special category of relationship. It was simply life unfolding alongside...
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Why Are We So Disconnected? And what does it take to build meaningful friendships in Kenya today?

You attend a hike. Everyone’s laughing, taking selfies, posting about how amazing the trail is. But somehow, you feel lonelier than ever. Not because you’re shy or antisocial—but because everything feels… transactional. You join a book club. You go to an event. You reply to an ad. The energy is promising, the first few conversations hopeful—but eventually, it becomes a performance. Everyone wants to seem interesting, deep, well-read. Few want to simply be known. We live in a society that talks about the loneliness epidemic—but rarely admits the role we play in it. In Nairobi and beyond, Kenyans are struggling to make real friendships. Not surface-level connections. Not social capital. Real, mutual, honest-to-God friendships. So what’s going on? We’ve Turned Friendship into a Transaction Let’s be honest: Many of us are looking for connections that “make sense.” We scan the room and instinctively filter people: Can they help me get a job? Are they well-connected? Do they look like someon...
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Daniel Arap Moi — The Shadow and the Shepherd: A Deep Dive into Kenya’s Second President

If Jomo Kenyatta was the founding father, Daniel Toroitich Arap Moi was the long-reigning stepfather — sometimes protective, often punitive, and almost always enigmatic. He ruled Kenya for 24 years, the longest of any president to date. To some, he was the gentle teacher, Mwalimu , who kept the nation from tearing apart. To others, he was the architect of a surveillance state, a master of patronage and fear, the man who perfected repression through calm. This is a portrait of Daniel Arap Moi — not just as a ruler, but as a man shaped by modest beginnings, colonial violence, and the hunger for order in a chaotic time. Early Life: The Boy from Sacho Daniel Arap Moi was born on September 2, 1924, in Kurieng’wo, Baringo, in Kenya’s Rift Valley. He came from the Tugen sub-group of the Kalenjin community. His father died when he was just four. Raised by his uncle, Moi’s early life was marked by hardship, discipline, and deep Christian missionary influence. He trained as a teacher at Tambach ...
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Know Thyself: The Quiet Power of Naming Your Nature

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” — Carl Jung We live in a culture that equates good intentions with goodness, and ambition with ability. But very few people in Kenya—or anywhere—truly know what they are made of. We can name our qualifications and our dreams. But ask someone their vices or virtues, and they hesitate. Worse, they lie. The Danger of Self-Unawareness In Kenya today, many of us are wandering through life making choices—big, small, and irreversible—without truly understanding who we are. We end up in jobs we despise, relationships we shouldn’t be in, or positions of influence we aren’t emotionally or ethically equipped for. And at the root of this dysfunction is a simple truth: we don’t know ourselves. This is not a spiritual or abstract dilemma. It’s a deeply practical one. To know oneself is to understand your vices, your virtues, your weaknesses, and your strengths—not in a vague sense, but in detail. Let’s ge...
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The Great Kenyan Home Ownership Madness: Dreams vs. Reality

Owning a home is a big dream for many Kenyans, but somewhere along the way, practicality has been thrown out the window. Too many people, driven by childhood aspirations or societal expectations, are constructing massive houses only to end up living like misers within them. Let’s break down why this trend makes little sense and what smarter, more sustainable homeownership looks like. The Harsh Reality of Owning a Big House in Kenya Many Kenyans, especially those who grew up in humble backgrounds, grew up being told to “dream big.” Unfortunately, this has translated into building unnecessarily large houses, often with rooms that remain unused, multiple verandahs gathering dust, and massive balconies that no one actually sits on. These houses cost millions to build, yet within a few years, the owners are struggling to maintain them, regretting their choices as they pour more money into renovations. If you need proof, just look at how many old houses in Nairobi remain unsold. No one wants...
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