There is a question we rarely ask ourselves with complete honesty: What do you believe—and what habits does your belief produce? Most people can answer the first part easily. They can describe their beliefs, their values, their philosophies. They know what they stand for. They can explain the principles they claim guide their lives. But the second question is much harder. Because beliefs are easy to claim. Habits are harder to hide. And it is in our habits—especially the small, ordinary ones—that our true philosophy quietly reveals itself. A belief system means very little if it does not shape the smallest habits of everyday life. Not the grand gestures. Not the moments when others are watching. But the quiet decisions that happen in ordinary settings—shared spaces, everyday responsibilities, small interactions with the people around us. How we manage inconvenience. How we treat people who cannot benefit us. How we handle situations where restraint, fairness, or consideration...
In Kenya, car ownership is often seen as a key milestone of success. When your peers, friends, and family members are all driving while you continue using matatus, buses, or boda bodas, it can bring about feelings of inadequacy, frustration, or even embarrassment. Public transport is undeniably cheaper, but it comes with its own stressors—unpredictable schedules, overcrowding, and safety concerns. How does one navigate this choice in their 30s, 40s, and 50s without feeling left behind? The Financial Reality vs. Social Pressure Choosing public transport over a car is often a financially wise decision, especially when considering the high costs of car ownership. However, there is an emotional and social weight that comes with it: Status and Perception: In many circles, having a car is equated with financial stability and progress. Convenience vs. Cost: Matatus can be unreliable, while a personal car offers flexibility and comfort. Peer Pressure: When friends organize trips or events, ...