KenyaOnAShoeString: Real Advice for Real Kenyans

Inspired by Martin Niemöller’s haunting poem “First They Came…” , this article explores how silence and apathy shape Kenyan society — and why empathy and moral courage matter more than ever. The Poem That Still Speaks There’s a haunting poem that has echoed through decades, written by a German pastor named Martin Niemöller after World War II. It’s a poem about silence — about how people stand by as others suffer, believing that what happens to someone else doesn’t concern them. "First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—Because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—Because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—Because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me." Niemöller’s words were born in a dark time, but they still ring true — even here, even now. Because in many ways, we Kenyans have mastered the art of looking away . ...

  “Beware the bareness of a busy life,” Socrates once said. But what about the loudness of a distracted one? From matatus blaring vulgar music, to church keshas echoing through residential estates, to restaurants where conversation is a fight against speakers—it seems Kenya has made noise the background of everyday life. But what is this obsession with sound? What is all this noise trying to drown out? Noise as Culture, But Also as Coping Let’s be clear: noise has always had a place in Kenyan culture. Luo benga, Kikuyu folk tunes, Luhya drumming, Swahili taarab… music and sound are part of celebration, spirituality, and storytelling. But what we’re experiencing now is different. What we’re hearing now is not cultural expression—it’s emotional avoidance. The Psychology of Noise: What Are We Running From? 1. Noise and Loneliness We live in a time of increasing isolation. Nairobi apartments are filled with single occupants. Friendships are transactional. Family members drift emo...