Perhaps one of the most overlooked privileges is not wealth itself, but having enough margin in your life to respond to reality. Over the last few years, we have become fluent in the language of privilege, speaking easily about financial privilege, pretty privilege, racial privilege, passport privilege, educational privilege and social privilege, and in doing so we have become increasingly aware that people do not all start from the same place and that some doors open more easily for some than for others. Yet there is one form of privilege that seems to receive far less attention, and that is the privilege of being able to do something with the information you have, not simply knowing, but acting, because the truth is that information alone changes very little. We like to imagine that if people only knew better, they would do better, and entire industries are built around this assumption, from self-help books and documentaries to podcasts, awareness campaigns, public health initiative...
Africa is not a country. Love is not one thing. Africa is not a country. We’ve heard this phrase used to challenge oversimplified narratives — to remind us that the continent is vast, layered, and irreducibly complex. The same, I believe, applies to love . In many homes and relationships across Kenya, “love” is treated like a catch-all. “My mum loves me. She paid my school fees.” “My dad loves us. He built the house.” “My partner loves me. They send money.” These statements are often shared with pride, and sometimes with pain — an attempt to make sense of affection that felt either too conditional, too distant, or too one-sided. But provision is not presence . Obedience is not connection . And saying “I love you” is not the same as showing up in ways that meet a person’s emotional needs. What we often call love in our culture is vague, generic, and sometimes hollow. To truly heal, connect, and grow, we must learn to name love differently — in the language of care , ...