If a child grows up to be kind, healthy, responsible, self-sufficient, and decent—but not wealthy—has the sacrifice failed? Most people would instinctively say no. Yet many families behave as though the answer is yes. Not openly, of course. No parent sits their child down and says, "I didn't raise you to be happy. I raised you to be rich." But expectations have a way of revealing themselves. In comparisons with more successful relatives. In questions about promotions, land, and home ownership. In the disappointment that hangs in the air when a child is doing well enough to survive but not well enough to transform the family's fortunes. And perhaps nowhere is this tension more visible than in Kenya, where sacrifice is often treated as the highest form of love. Parents sacrifice for their children. Older siblings sacrifice for younger siblings. Entire generations sacrifice in the hope that the next one will live better. But what happens when sacrifice quietly becomes an...
In Kenya , we were taught to believe that experience is gold. That if you worked long enough, if you collected enough years, your value would automatically rise. That the job market would respect you for the battles you have fought, the places you have served, the mistakes you have endured. But last week, I sat in interviews that shook that belief to its core. Men and women with 5, 8, even 10 years of experience walked in, clutching their resumes with pride, only to accept salaries that would barely pay their children’s school fees . People who had returned from abroad, with exposure and networks, nodding quietly as they were offered wages not too far from what a fresh graduate could expect. It wasn’t just one or two candidates. It was a pattern. Experience Is Not Currency Here We love to tell young people, “get experience first, then the money will come.” But what happens when the money doesn’t come? What happens when you realize that in the Kenyan market — especially in certain...