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...
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...