From Sparks to Stories

Wow… 26 already. Time really does fly! Turning 26 feels like standing on the edge of something electric, a place where lessons from the past meet the endless possibilities of the future. It’s that sweet spot where reflection meets ambition, and gratitude meets curiosity. Honestly, it’s a big person’s age, there are things you can’t just do anymore, and yet, there’s so much you can. They say, at 26, you start to know yourself in ways you never did before. You see your strengths, your quirks, and the sparks that make you come alive. You’ve stumbled, you’ve celebrated, and you’ve realized that life isn’t just about reaching a destination, but how you move through the journey. And yes, just like Mike says, the mistakes… they start to cost more. The lessons are harder, the risks weigh heavier, and the stakes feel higher. But here’s the thing: each “expensive mistake” teaches you something you wouldn’t learn any other way. They sharpen your judgment, stretch your patience, and remind you tha...

It is January 10th, 6:44 a.m. I can't turn my head off.  Funny how I haven’t slept at all, today, or maybe since yesterday. Frankly, I don’t want to sleep. I’m afraid the rest of the day will take a toll on me if I do. But here I am. It’s been a while since I last wrote. This morning, I feel inspired again. And you probably already know what my inspiration is. Yes, you guessed right. It’s a girl. She’s a beauty. Truly. I noticed it at first, felt it even, but brushed it off because of a silly pact I made with myself: no pursuing girls from church. Not after what happened the last time. But this one feels different. She really does. She’s calm. Collected. And when she smiles; man, when she smiles, my head goes into a frenzy. Crazy, right? I finally told her I found her attractive. I said, “It would be unfair if I never told you how beautiful of a human being you are.” It took courage, but I meant every word. My voice didn’t shake at all, my heart did. It has been a while since I fe...

I won’t lie—my writing mojo had packed its bags and gone on an unapproved sabbatical. The other day, Diana texted me, clearly unimpressed, to ask why on earth I’d gone months without giving you guys something to read. “We’re starving here!” she said. I promised her I’d write something soon, but if I’m honest, I had no idea when—or even what—I’d write about. But all credits to Wanyama for this one. You know, the kind of conversation that derails your train of thought but somehow manages to put the wheels back on track? Yeah, that’s the one. So, here we are, all thanks to Wanyama—because if there’s one thing about him, he has a knack for stirring the pot and getting my creative side in motion. For some reason, many believe that men don't cry. Or maybe it's that men shouldn't cry. Perhaps, as some might argue, men were simply not meant to cry. I find myself both agreeing and disagreeing with each of these notions in equal measure. There are moments when holding it in is ...

In today's fast-paced world, a lot goes on, and sometimes we get so caught up in responsibilities and the demands of daily life that we forget to take care of ourselves. Recently, stress, anxiety, and emotional exhaustion have reached all-time highs. As a result, self-care has become not just a buzzword but an essential practice for sustaining mental wellness. As a mental health counselor and founder of Akilispace—an initiative aimed at promoting mental wellness among young people—I’ve seen firsthand how neglecting self-care can lead to a rapid deterioration of our emotional, physical, and mental health. Self-care is not a luxury or an occasional indulgence; it’s a necessity for everyone, regardless of age, background, or profession. It requires an intentional approach to engaging in activities that promote overall well-being, with the goal of restoring balance in our lives. Why self-care? Personally, I believe self-care is the foundation of mental resilience. Taking the time to ...

  HRs, hebu kuja hapa, kwani hamna budget?  Anyway guys, if there's a question that sends shivers down my  spine, aquestion so terrifying that it surpasses the dreaded, "What are we?" that you might get from that lady you picked up from the club last month, then this question is none other than: "So, how much do you want us to pay you?" Now, I don't know about you, but I've found this question to be a source of great anxiety. It's like being asked, "What's your deepest, darkest secret?" but in corporate jargon. Why does it have to be this way?  Imagine it: you've aced the first few rounds of interviews. You've researched the company, prepared your best "what's your greatest weakness" response (spoiler: "I'm a perfectionist"), and worn your "hire me, I'm smart and also very nice" outfit. Then, it happens. The HR smiles at you, takes a sip of water, and drops the bomb: "So, how much d...

I know, it feels like I’ve taken a million years to get back to you. But hold up, guys—you can’t stone me for that! I was in love . If you were in my shoes, trust me, you’d get it. But don’t worry, I’m here now, flipping back to the pages we once shared. It was one of those whirlwind romances—full of light, late-night talks, and endless inside jokes. They built their love on shared dreams, stolen glances, and Ed Sheeran’s lyrics playing softly in the background. Everything seemed perfect, as if the universe had handed them a script destined to last forever. It was love in its purest form, a promise to grow old together, laughing through the wrinkles and savoring the slow passage of time. But, like many love stories, cracks began to form. Slowly at first, almost invisible. Then came that Sunday afternoon. One simple conversation, with the sun streaming through the window and their hands gently interlocked, would change everything. The words between them picked up speed, and before they ...