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...
There’s a kind of tiredness that doesn’t show on your face. You go to work. You show up. You laugh with people. You move through the motions. But inside your head—it’s chaos. There’s the to-do list. The bills. The unspoken fears. The small, constant calculations. The weight of everyone else depending on you. The pain you never had time to process. The dreams that quietly died in the background. You sleep, but you’re not rested. You take a weekend off, but your mind is still sprinting. You sit down to rest, and your brain opens a spreadsheet of everything that could go wrong. That’s not just stress. That’s mental exhaustion. The Storm We Don’t Realize We’re In In Kenya, we’ve normalized mental fatigue so much that we barely notice it anymore. You're in your 30s or 40s, and it hits you: you’ve been running for two decades straight. Not just physically—but emotionally, financially, mentally. A single mother works two jobs but still finds herself sleepless at 3 a.m., not because o...