I have been dealing with a problem in my foot for almost two weeks. This might not sound particularly dramatic. It isn't cancer. It isn't an emergency. It isn't even the kind of pain that stops me from going about my day. Which is perhaps why I found myself hesitating. You see, I am a walker. Not the kind of person who takes a stroll every now and then. I walk for two to three hours most days. Walking is how I think, how I clear my head, and how I make sense of the world. If there is one part of my body I should be willing to invest in, it is probably my feet. Yet when I started calling podiatrists in Nairobi, I found myself doing mental gymnastics. The cheapest consultation fee I found was KES 5,000. Consultation. Not treatment. Not scans. Not medication. Just the privilege of finding out what might be wrong. By the time everything was done, the bill could easily reach KES 15,000 or KES 20,000. And suddenly I found myself wondering whether I really needed a podiatrist. May...
A few days ago, I witnessed something that left me shaking my head in disbelief. I was translating for a Chinese client looking for salespeople familiar with the Kenyan market. He got a candidate’s number from someone, invited him for an interview, and even picked the meeting location—a coffee shop. The Kenyan sales guy shows up, experienced, knowledgeable, and with an existing client list. Clearly, he’s an asset. But then, things took a turn. First, the Chinese guy shows up 30 minutes late. No apology. Then, he lets the Kenyan pay for his own coffee. Keep in mind, he reached out to him , not the other way around. But here’s the real kicker—the sales guy, despite holding all the cards, asks for a salary of KES 30,000 and freely spills inside information about his former company, which happens to be a competitor to the Chinese guy’s new business. What kind of self-sabotage is this?! This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this happen. I know of another Chinese-owned company where Kenyan wo...