KenyaOnAShoeString: Real Advice for Real Kenyans

Imagine this: every minute you spend scrolling through Facebook , watching videos on YouTube , or chatting on WhatsApp came with a price tag — a real cash charge deducted from your wallet. Would you still spend hours online? Would you pay KES 666 for just one hour of TikTok videos? Or KES 2,000 for a day of Facebook scrolling? The Hidden Price of "Free" Content Let’s break it down with some numbers. Suppose you earn KES 80,000 a month. You work about 8 hours a day, but after meals and breaks, your effective work time is 6 hours daily, Monday to Friday. That totals roughly 120 working hours per month. Dividing your monthly salary by your work hours gives you an hourly wage of approximately: KES 80,000 ÷ 120 hours = KES 666 per hour. Now, here’s the shocking part: what if you had to pay yourself KES 666 for every hour you spend on social media? Spending just 3 hours a day would earn you almost KES 2,000 daily . Over 20 working days, that’s a staggering KES 4...

You are not as scattered as you think. You are living in a world that is deliberately designed to fracture your focus. From the moment you wake up to the moment you sleep, someone—or something—is trying to steal your attention. It’s not just on your phone. It’s in your workplace, your routines, even your efforts to rest or heal. This is not about personal failure. It’s about engineered distraction —systems built to keep us overstimulated, disconnected, and always wanting more. Let’s take a closer look at how this happens across different aspects of modern life—and what it really costs us. 1. The Internet: Where Attention Becomes Currency We often think of distraction online as a weakness—our fault for clicking too much, scrolling too long. But online spaces are designed to hijack your focus. The Architecture of Distraction Infinite scroll wasn’t invented for convenience—it was created to remove natural stopping points. Auto-play forces your hand before your brain has time...

Some long for fame, others for quiet praise — but most of us, in some way or another, want to be seen. Not just acknowledged, but witnessed. Validated. Held in the awareness of others. It shows up in the photos we take, the statuses we draft, even in how we frame our experiences: “If no one knows I did it, did it really matter?” In today’s world — even here in Kenya, where not everyone lives online — the urge to live for the gaze of others is quietly embedded in everyday life. We plan, curate, and sometimes even feel experiences more intensely when we imagine someone else is watching. But what would life feel like if no one was? Can we truly exist without performing ourselves? 1. From Childhood Applause to Adult Validation It’s tempting to blame the usual suspects — Instagram, YouTube, influencer culture. But the craving to be seen started long before platforms. It’s planted in childhood. The child who is applauded for being clever, articulate, or entertaining. The student who shines a...

Most of us are performing. Not just online — but in our clothes, our conversations, our spending, our silence. We perform for our families, our neighbors, our peers. We perform for strangers on Instagram and for classmates we haven’t spoken to in years. We perform to say, “I made it,” even when we haven’t. We perform to hide the hustle, the loans, the grief, the shame. In Kenya, to look like you’re struggling is often worse than to actually struggle. So we signal. With shoes, with weddings, with cars, with captions. Because dignity — here — is something you must display to be allowed to keep. We borrowed the car, we leased the house, Took the loan, wore the lace, smiled for the photos. Just to whisper to the world — I am not the struggle I came from. When Dignity Must Be Displayed In Kenya, poverty is more than economic — it is a social stigma, a public shame. Many of us are not just trying to escape hardship, we are trying to escape the look of it. In a society where ...