There is a question we rarely ask ourselves with complete honesty: What do you believe—and what habits does your belief produce? Most people can answer the first part easily. They can describe their beliefs, their values, their philosophies. They know what they stand for. They can explain the principles they claim guide their lives. But the second question is much harder. Because beliefs are easy to claim. Habits are harder to hide. And it is in our habits—especially the small, ordinary ones—that our true philosophy quietly reveals itself. A belief system means very little if it does not shape the smallest habits of everyday life. Not the grand gestures. Not the moments when others are watching. But the quiet decisions that happen in ordinary settings—shared spaces, everyday responsibilities, small interactions with the people around us. How we manage inconvenience. How we treat people who cannot benefit us. How we handle situations where restraint, fairness, or consideration...
What do you do when you’re told you’re dying—but you’re still needed? What do you say when the world tells you to ‘fight’ but your body is asking you to rest? In Kenya, death is still taboo. We bury it in jokes, euphemisms, and silence. We don’t prepare for it, even though it’s coming—for all of us. And for those who are sick—especially with terminal or chronic illnesses—it’s even harder to talk about. There’s pressure to "fight," to "be strong," to be a “cancer warrior.” But what if the bravest thing isn't fighting, but making peace? And yet, for a parent with young children, a single mother, a man providing for generations, how do you begin to make peace with death when you know the world may not be kind to those you leave behind? This is the emotional tension we must speak to. What Is Life, Really? The Kenyan Understanding vs. the Deeper Reality In Kenya, life is often defined by activity—movement, breath, work, hustle. That’s why we love the phrase “bor...