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...
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...