One of the easiest things in the world is to mistake an outcome for a story. A beautiful home. A thriving business. A failed marriage. A child in an expensive school. A forty-year-old with no savings. Someone who seems to have it all. Someone who appears to have fallen behind. We see the destination and instinctively begin filling in the journey. Hardworking. Lazy. Disciplined. Irresponsible. Lucky. Entitled. Deserving. Wasteful. Perhaps the most dangerous thing about human beings is not that we judge one another. It is how quickly we become certain that our judgment is correct. Because every life has invisible expenses. Not just financial ones. The kind that never appear on a bank statement or a résumé. Some are chosen. Some are imposed. Some are wise. Some are costly mistakes. Most are a complicated mixture of both. One person reaches middle age with very little savings because they spent years paying school fees for younger siblings. Another because they repeatedly made poor financi...
“Alinitoa kwa shimo.” “Without her, I’d still be unemployed.” “He gave me a chance when no one else would.” These are the silent contracts many Kenyan employees sign — not with ink, but with emotion. Loyalty. Guilt. A debt of gratitude that never expires. It starts innocently. You join a small business or NGO. Maybe the pay is modest, but the opportunity feels heaven-sent. The founder seems visionary, kind even. They say, “We’re like family here.” And you believe them. You stay late. You sacrifice weekends. You take on roles that aren’t yours — because how can you not help? After all, they gave you a chance . You want to be part of the story. The vision. The mission. So you give your time. Your peace. Your boundaries. But slowly, something shifts. You notice raises are rare. Promotions are vague. Financial discussions are avoided or deflected. You realize that while you’ve tied your loyalty to the person who “gave you a chance,” they’ve tied their loyalty to the profit ma...