KenyaOnAShoeString: Real Advice for Real Kenyans

When Ivy Wangechi, a promising medical student, was murdered in broad daylight by a man believed to be pursuing her romantically, the country erupted in grief—and then quickly fractured into two camps. One side mourned her death and labeled it femicide. The other asked: “But wasn’t he supporting her financially? Shouldn’t she have made her intentions clear?” This question wasn’t new. It’s the same tired refrain echoed every time a woman is killed after rejecting a man: “She took his money.” “She was leading him on.” “He was hurt.” But behind the horror and hashtags lies a bigger, more complex truth: We don’t know how to date anymore. We don’t know how to say no. We don’t know how to hear no. We don’t know what healthy courtship looks like. And dangerously, we’ve begun to mistake transaction for connection. This is Not Victim Blaming Let’s say this upfront: Nothing justifies murder. No rejection, no heartbreak, no “being used.” Violence is a choice. And women are not to blame...

We live in a world that prizes exclusivity — not just in material goods, but in matters of the heart. From romantic relationships to best friends, we’ve built emotional territories: this one is mine, that one is yours. But what if this idea is flawed? What if human beings are wired not for emotional possession, but for layered, plural, and dynamic connections? This article explores the tension between emotional connection and exclusivity — and questions whether our current cultural expectations align with how humans actually experience closeness. 1. The Roots of Emotional Exclusivity Many of us grow up learning that love, loyalty, and intimacy must be contained. We hear things like: “You can only have one best friend.” “If you love someone, you shouldn’t need anyone else.” “Emotional cheating is still cheating.” These statements reflect a belief that deep connection is a zero-sum game: that love given elsewhere is love taken away. But the heart doesn’t function like a bank account. Con...