How Yazua Afrika Is Reframing Masculinity

I’ll freely admit that I’m highly sceptical of programmes that target the ‘boy child’ or young men in a world that is still structurally stacked against women. That scepticism comes from a deep frustration: the sense that the rage we see so often is rooted in fear. Fear that women’s equality somehow threatens men’s current position of superiority. Fear that equality means loss.

So when I was introduced to Eric Mungai of Yazua Afrika, I held that scepticism close, but I also challenged myself to listen with an open mind. I’m glad I did.

“I’d like to see a continent that offers dignity — in health, education, and livelihoods. Where women are safe and able to participate fully. Where education is available for everyone. I’d like to see us leapfrog into modernity, to build cities like Dubai, while staying connected to our roots. I want us to find a place for everyone, so that everyone belongs. Where our people aren’t corrupt. Our resources don’t have to be wasted.”

Eric painted a compelling picture of the world he hopes to help build.

Born to a teenage mother, Eric was raised by his maternal grandfather. Teen pregnancy was difficult for his mother--she experienced post-natal depression, and was later diagnosed with bipolar disorder alongside other mental health challenges. His grandfather became the steady anchor Eric needed, providing love, care, and mentorship.

Without necessarily naming it as such, his grandfather took a coaching and mentorship approach. From an early age, he encouraged Eric to volunteer his time. One of the places Eric volunteered was a rehabilitation centre for street-involved boys. As he returned regularly, Eric began to notice something uncomfortable: while he came from the same environment and the same poverty as many of the boys there, his path was already diverging. He was doing well in school. He had support.

Digging deeper, he realised the difference was intentionality.

That realisation stayed with him. As Eric moved through college and into work, he continued to volunteer and remain curious about the lived experiences of these boys. At the centre, he noticed a troubling pattern. While school fees were being paid, many boys weren’t staying. The intervention wasn’t responding to their individual needs.

Eric came to understand that raising boys requires more than provision — it requires stories that speak to their hearts and imaginations.

What began as a weekend engagement slowly grew into a community. Eric developed a curriculum shaped by listening, observation, and lived experience.

“I wanted to give them something I had — something that gave me an edge.”

Much of that edge, he reflects, came from watching his grandfather evolve. While his grandfather had been angry, distant, and almost dictatorial with his own children, he was different with Eric. The shift came after his business failed, giving him the space to sit with himself.

“Men don’t know who they are until their world crumbles around them.”

With Eric, his grandfather was present. He listened. He encouraged expression. He had Eric read aloud to him — a practice Eric credits with significantly improving his academic performance.

These early experiences now inform Yazua Afrika’s programmes for boys and young men aged nine to twenty-one. Rather than teaching masculinity through rigid roles, Yazua reframes it through values and virtues.

“A lot of work with boys is still deeply patriarchal. Masculinity needs to move from roles to values. Discipline, determination, excellence — these are qualities that make you a good human being, and therefore a good man. The idea that manhood is about power over others isn’t just outdated; it’s dangerous.”

Yazua Afrika partners with high schools that need additional support in mentoring boys. They train mentors — including school alumni and professionals from corporate organisations — using their curriculum. They also license this curriculum to other organisations, such as rehabilitation centres for street-involved boys and groups working with boys from lower-income communities.

Their approach is intentionally experiential. Boys are immersed in their communities and encouraged to see themselves as contributors rather than recipients. For boys aged twelve to seventeen, this includes identifying a problem in their school or community and developing a solution. Often, they focus on issues such as waste management or climate change. Yazua Afrika then supports them by connecting the boys to relevant organisations — for example, the Africa Leadership Academy — which provide curriculum support, materials, and training.

The boys don’t just ideate. They act. They volunteer. They participate.

I was keen to hear stories of boys and men who had gone through Yazua Afrika’s programmes, and Eric shared several.

One is Peter Ndirangu, now working at L’Oréal and a strong supporter of Yazua Afrika. He is passionate about ethical sourcing, consistently asking what it would mean for a global company to prioritise clean products and moral supply chains — and how those decisions affect communities.

Another alumnus is a county assembly member actively pushing for progressive civic conversations. Another, also named Peter, runs a startup that encourages people to invest in and support coffee farmers.

Eric also shared reflections from participants who spoke about how the guidance and mentorship from him and the wider team helped them grow in confidence, discipline, and self-understanding.

As Yazua Afrika continues to grow, Eric is becoming increasingly intentional about partnerships and scale. The organisation is also preparing to open an office in Johannesburg.

I began this conversation sceptical. I left it persuaded of something important: working with boys does not have to come at the expense of women. When done thoughtfully, it is one of the ways we build safer, more equitable societies — for everyone.

Keen to learn more? Reach out to Yazua Afrika at eric@yazuaafrika.com or visit https://yazuaafrika.com/ 

Top 12 Nonfiction Reads of 2025

If you asked someone who knows me well to describe me, chances are that somewhere in the first paragraph there’d be a reference to my love of reading. I credit my mum for inculcating this love in me—when I was younger, even before I could really understand words, she would read me stories and make up her own.

I’m not sure whether this led to, or fed, my insatiable curiosity, but by a young age I was hooked. The librarian at school was surprised when my mum once asked her to stop lending me books (so that I could, you know, do homework). She mentioned that she usually had the opposite complaint from parents—that their children read too little.

The more you read, the faster you get. As a 10- or 11-year-old, I finished The Lord of the Rings in three days. These days? I average around 150 books a year (from 2020 to date). Not because I’m spending hours and hours reading every day (don’t tempt me…), but because I’ve built my speed to the point where I can.

Out of the 169 books I finished in 2025, I wanted to share 12 nonfiction reads that really stood out, in no particular order. Let me know if you end up picking any of these up.

---

1. Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men, Caroline Criado Perez
How is this not a book everyone’s talking about? It had me—borrowing some Gen Z—shook. So much of how the world is designed hinges on a male default, and we rarely question it, even when the implications for women’s health, safety, happiness, and opportunity are enormous. READ. THIS. BOOK.

2. The Anxious Generation, Jonathan Haidt
Screen time and social media are bad for children. How bad? This rigorously researched book lays it out clearly. Haidt argues for minimal screen time, no social media until at least 16 (ideally longer), phone-free schools, and a return to more risky, independent play for kids.

3. Hope Dies Last, Alan Weisman
Climate change is terrifying. The speed and scale of ecological breakdown is terrifying. I tapped into that fear viscerally last year, and this book left me both unsettled and—surprisingly—hopeful. Weisman’s core argument is that while individual actions feel good (recycle those bottles!), we need much bigger bets to save ourselves, and many communities are already paying the price. He introduces us to people who are making those big bets. For all our sakes, I hope they succeed. This is probably the book I recommend most these days.

4. Between Two Kingdoms, Suleika Jaouad
Jaouad’s memoir traces her diagnosis with cancer, her treatment, and the long, disorienting aftermath. Her writing is raw and intimate; she doesn’t shy away from truth-telling, even when it reflects uncomfortably on herself.

5. If Oceans Were Ink: An Unlikely Friendship and a Journey to the Heart of the Quran, Carla Power
I picked this up via a daily Kindle deals newsletter I subscribe to. Power, a secular American raised by Christian and Jewish parents, forms a friendship with Sheikh Mohammad Akram Nadwi. Together, they read and debate the Quran. I found this book a beautiful case study in genuinely engaging with difference—and in challenging one’s own assumptions and biases.

6. Notes on a Nervous Planet, Matt Haig
At this point, if Matt Haig publishes something, I’m in. This book is a collection of observations on the modern world, written in his trademark charming, vulnerable, deeply relatable voice.

7. Hidden Potential, Adam Grant
Another author whose work I’ll always read. I describe my own purpose as unblocking, unlocking, and accelerating potential, so a book on exactly that—by one of my favourite thinkers on work and organisations—was a no-brainer. I took notes, including ideas like asking for advice instead of feedback (to turn critics into coaches), and helping students become proactive, prosocial, disciplined, and determined.

8. Cleverlands, Lucy Crehan
If I had to choose one intervention that could have a massive positive impact on humanity, it would be education. Crehan explores education systems in Finland, Canada, Japan, China, and Singapore, immersing herself in classrooms and living with teachers. A must-read for anyone interested in how learning systems are designed—and how they could be better.

9. Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls, Elena Favilli and Francesca Cavallo
I wish I’d had this book growing up. I plan to read the subsequent volumes soon. I’d recommend gifting this to anyone—regardless of age or gender—as a counterbalance to the overwhelmingly male-centric narratives many of us are raised on.

10. Manifesto for a Moral Revolution, Jacqueline Novogratz
I’d read The Blue Sweater years ago and had this sitting on my Kindle for a while before finally diving in. I’m glad I did. I love stories about people trying—earnestly and imperfectly—to make the world better, and Novogratz draws on many such stories to offer a much-needed moral and practical perspective.

11. 101 Essays That Will Change the Way You Think, Brianna Wiest
Was I sceptical because of the title? Absolutely. Did some of the essays make me think very deeply? Also yes. Maybe not life-changing across the board, but thoughtful, timely reflections that landed when I was ready for them.

12. Glucose Revolution, Jessie Inchauspé
Recommended by a friend, and genuinely instrumental in helping me reverse prediabetes last year (!!). Enough said, I think.

 

Rewriting the Future: How Patinaai Osim Is Transforming Learning in Maasai Communities

 A few weeks ago, I sat down (virtually) with Semerian Sankori, founder of Patinaai Osim. It was the end of the day and I was suffering from information overload—made worse by how bad the news is (IYKYK). It didn’t take long for me to sit upright and be fully engaged. I hope her story gives you as much hope as it did me.

Named after an endearment, “Patinaai Osim”—loosely translated from Maasai as “the one who brings me joy,” often used by women for their children—this NGO envisions a world where children in rural Kenya have the same opportunities as their peers elsewhere.

“Why do we have learners aged 12 still in villages just starting ECD (Early Childhood Development)? Why do our schools not have computers? Why do children under 10 walk 7 kilometres to school? Why do we have only four teachers in a big school?”

These are the questions that drive Sankori. A proud member of the Maasai community she serves, she was fortunate to attend boarding school from the age of 10—an opportunity that shielded her from the severe resource constraints of local schools. Today, she channels that privilege into purpose, leading an organisation grounded in five core pillars:

• Education access and equity
• Livelihoods and economic resilience
• Sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR)
• Climate action and environmental justice
• Culture and indigenous knowledge

Sankori highlights one of Kenya’s biggest educational challenges: chronic under-resourcing. While the Competency-Based Curriculum (CBC) was designed with good intentions, it assumes a level of parental literacy and access that many rural families simply don’t have. Materials needed for projects (in school and for homework), like manila paper and crayons, tend to be hard to find. Many schools do not even have the electricity they need!

She points out, 

“In everything we do, we ensure that our indigenous knowledge guides us. We respect where we are, the communities, their culture and norms. The younger generation is losing so much, there’s friction between elders and youth. Issues like climate change? Indigenous leaders knew how to deal with this many centuries ago. Maasai depended on livestock that depended on the earth and natural resources.”

This philosophy shapes Patinaai Osim’s approach: listen and empower. Every intervention begins with listening—understanding that each rural community has its own unique challenges.

The organisation’s education interventions began with primary schools. When national exam results consistently placed local schools at the bottom, Patinaai Osim conducted a baseline survey—and the findings were sobering. Some Grade 8 pupils, preparing for national exams, couldn’t read a paragraph. When teachers asked questions, no hands went up.

In response, with support from their partner GRIC, the team launched a numeracy and literacy programme using the Teaching at the Right Level (TaRL) model for Grades 3–5. The programme strengthens foundational literacy for Grade 2-4 learners through a fun, level-based model inspired by the TaRL approach. Over 30–50 days, learners participate in short after-school, weekend, or holiday sessions. They are first assessed and grouped by ability (beginner, word, or paragraph level) rather than grade or age.

Assessments are done in Maasai, Swahili, and English. As Sankori says, “Who says if you can’t speak English you’re dumb? They’re not dumb—they’re learning a new language. And once we start in Maasai, they pick up English so much faster.”

The results have been remarkable. Learners who once sat silent now compete to read aloud in class. Partner schools now have libraries and remedial sessions focused on play that children look forward to.

Teachers, too, have been empowered to innovate using local resources creatively—and parental engagement has soared. But slowly, that began to change. Today, parent-teacher meetings are almost always full—and not just with mothers. In Maasai culture, children have long been seen as belonging to women, and education was often viewed as a woman’s responsibility. Patinaai Osim recognised this and worked within that cultural reality rather than against it. By inviting dialogue, respect, and shared ownership, they’ve helped shift how families see education. Now, fathers are engaged too.

After the success of its primary school pilot, Patinaai Osim expanded its focus to Early Childhood Care and Development Education (ECCDE) and childcare centres.

“If you gave me one million dollars and told me to spend it on one thing,” Sankori smiles, “it would all go to foundational learning.”

In many rural Maasai communities, young children are kept home. There is a long journey to school, and human-wildlife conflict in the area means this journey can often be unsafe for younger children who might not be as fast or resourceful as their older peers. The organisation has worked with this reality: now: communities donate spaces (often churches), which are transformed into early learning centres equipped with materials and teachers.

Just weeks ago, 100 + learners graduated from these centres and joined primary schools—already reading and counting, with no need for remedial support from a programme like TaRL.

For children aged 0–3, especially those born to teen mothers, Patinaai Osim builds informal childcare networks. Older women in the community care for the babies, freeing young mothers to work and provide for their families.

“There’s a girl in our scholarship programme—an orphan living with her grandmother, who’s part of our tailoring project,” Sankori shares. “She’s around 11 or 12 now, and she was top of her class last week. I’m so proud of her. I can’t wait to see how far she’ll go.”

Patinaai Osim’s work is currently centred in Kajiado County, but the organisation has its sights set on scaling to Narok, where similar challenges—and an even higher rate of teen pregnancy—persist.

In a world that often rewards short-term thinking, Sankori’s vision is refreshingly long-term. She is, quite literally, planting trees whose shade future generations will sit under.

Interested in learning more or getting involved?

Reach out to Patinaai Osim at info@patinaaiosim.org

Apartment 28

I remember walking in and looking around as my stomach slowly sank. The paint was peeling, the floorboards faded. The place was considerably more weathered than I had expected. And yet, this was to be home. 

My older cousin sensed my energy and brought some of his own—he wisely advised me to "stay there for a couple of months while I found somewhere else". My sister, a few hundred kilometres away, spoke to his younger brother and they provided the voice of reason. Stay. You'll be fine. We've all done this before. 

The place was small, about 750 square feet (hush, New Yorkers, I know), and yet the quiet felt cavernous as they drove back home that day. I had Planty for company, a succulent my sister thoughtfully shipped so I wouldn't be alone. Its early demise, surprisingly, I mourned more than I thought I would. But in the 689 days between then and when I would leave 28 for the last time, it became home. 

Leaving in June 2023 was strange. I looked at these walls that had borne so much—laughter, vulnerability, grief, community. I had a strange reluctance to part with some of my furniture and household objects that had become part of my life. And yet, my sadness when leaving was coupled with deep gratitude. 

In those first few weeks, it was the quiet that got to me. I was in an apartment building, there were people all around me. I was in New Haven, community and new friends were short walks away. I had begun to host. But it was the spaces in between, where I would return after classes, and miss the pitter patter of puppy paws on floors. The constant hum of household noises running in the background. The felt but quiet sense of other humans a few doors away. The sense of my pups, my heart, a few open doors away.

What is it about our culture, I wonder, that demonises solitude to the extent that we cannot separate it from loneliness? It wasn't the quiet, you see. It was that for the first time I was alone, truly alone with me.

The warmth and laughter and light that were poured into 28's walls weren't just special because of the community that infused them. They were special because in a way, they were about me coming home to myself. 

I'd like to say that the different groups I hosted blended into each other at some point, and while that's true to an extent, there was such special, unique energy that each brought. Discussions about faith with two friends a year above me. Laughter and shoulder massages with strong women who I'm still in awe of. Being curled up on the couch with people who felt like my people musing about the happenings of the social circus that's an MBA. Confessions of crushes and budding relationships. Deep vulnerability as people peeled back the layers. My neighbour/friend popping in and out over the months, sometimes with delicious food I'd be hard pressed to duplicate (I tried). When my past came to meet my present, the gift of living not too far from one of my besties. 

That's the power of being in a new space. It allows us to rediscover ourselves and take back these new selves—look world, hi, see who I discovered I could be! It's not always perfect. I don't want it to be. I don't agree with those who say they have no regrets. I don’t agree with those who say they have no regrets. I don’t believe them—or maybe I just don’t understand. I have many. Words that can't now be said or unsaid. Presence that can't be given or taken back. But these regrets are also coupled with gratitude for the spaces and people that have held me and allowed me to grow. 

I was slow to discover the beauty of my surroundings. The sparkle of the string lights by the window as I sat on my couch with some wine or herbal tea or warm haldi dudh. And what fast became my favourite, the way the morning light would pour over my bed like warm honey. I remember so many warm moments, content moments, that were just me sitting in that space on my bed soaking up the precious sun with some coffee. It's where I learnt that I'm just a plant, really. 

This is where I first fell in love with a tree, the tree that I saw from my bedroom window first thing in the morning and sometimes last thing at night, the tree that I witnessed and photographed through different seasons, the tree that quiety witnessed me through my own. I learnt a lot from observing that tree—is it strange to miss a plant? 

My favourite date night with myself has to be the one where I laughed myself silly because I over bubbled my bubble bath, came out to cook myself some simple but delicious pasta, and watched an episode or so of a K-drama I was enjoying at the time. There were the reprieves I got from studying (yes, I had to do that too) when I hopped on my rowing machine for 5, 10, 20 minutes. That rowing machine saved my sanity and my triceps. Rest in peace, rowing machine (or in whichever basement you ended up in). There was murder basement—laundry day was never really fun, at least not the laundry part of it. I remain unconvinced that a few bodies don't lurk there. 

When did Apartment 28 become a place where the quiet made me want to crawl out of my skin to a place where every time—EVERY TIME—I walked in the door, I felt joy and gratitude and contentment? Love seeps into spaces, one small moment at a time.

And that sadness and gratitude I felt when I left was a reminder that I'll always carry that home with me. 

On Loneliness

 

At the most basic level, humans want and need connection. And yet, when I’m lonely, I’m ashamed of expressing that need—a shame that doesn’t arise when I’ve felt thirsty, yet loneliness and thirst are both signals that my body is sending me that tell me I need something. 

Connection is an issue I’ve been pondering for a while now—specifically connection between friends and peers, at work and outside. The idea of putting in work into romantic and familial relationships has been acceptable for a while now (not everywhere, true, and we still have a way to go). When I’m thinking about something, I’ll want to read about it. This winter, I spent time on Dr. Vivek Murthy’s (the 21st US Surgeon General) book, Together: The Healing Power of Human Connection in a Sometimes Lonely World. 

So much about the book resonated, and I loved him speaking about moais—social networks originated in Japan that entailed five friends coming together for emotional, relational, financial, and logistical support. Dr. Murthy spoke about his own moai that committed to monthly video calls, reaching out whenever needed, and being real in their conversations. He credits it with changing his life and being a strong support system and circle of advisers that have helped him make important decisions, including whether or not to accept the surgeon-general’s position again. I lowkey but not so lowkey want one of my own!

The potential health effects of loneliness are depressing at best, terrifying at worst. I won’t go into these too much, as the book does a much better job, but it helped me understand that feeling a lack of connection isn’t an issue I can—or should—put off for much longer.

I was fortunate to be in the audience yesterday when Dr. Murthy addressed a group at the Yale School of Management, of which he is an alumnus and where I’m currently doing my MBA. He touched on the shame behind loneliness—people misreading it to believe that they’re unlikeable, or worse, unlovable. 

“Your problem is not that you don’t have friends. It’s that you are not experiencing friendship.” This is what a friend of his told him when he was expressing his own connection needs. I needed to pause (as much as one can as an audience member) and let this sink in. Yes, yes this exactly. I’m incredibly fortunate to have a number of close friends whom I cherish deeply. These people have my back, and they understand me. So why have I felt this loneliness from time to time? Most of them live a few flights away from me, and I haven’t been experiencing friendship as much as I’ve needed to.

This ties into another quote of his which really resonated: “Connections which are useful at staving off loneliness are those in which we are seen and heard.” As above, these connections exist for many of us—they certainly do for me—but experiencing these connections is vital to feel seen and heard. 

I’ve been reflecting since—hence the need to write today—and I realise I need to be better not just at expressing my needs to my networks, but also at ensuring I’m creating space for connection for others--for my friends, for my teams, for my peers and those around me, to ensure that they’re also experiencing connection and feeling seen, heard, and understood. Today’s reflection was more personal, but I believe absolutely applicable and vital to think about in workplaces.

I hope you'll be doing the same.

42 Lessons from 42 Years

 My amazing sister, Ranjeeta Walia, turned 42 yesterday. As a joke, I asked her for 42 lessons she'd learnt along the way. As soon as she started spouting wisdom, though, I knew I had to capture these and share with a broader audience.

1. Never compromise on your core values/ principles

2. Always seize opportunities to grow and become a better human being. There’s always something to learn

3. Eat those vegetables/ aim for a well-balanced diet

4. Don’t be quick to judge others

5. Respect people irrespective of their age or position in life 

6. Look after yourself mind, body, and soul 

7. Cultivate relationships with people who love you for you/ people you can be yourself around and who are sincere with you 

8. If you must have a life partner (not everyone wants one), take your time to find one who complements you. Remember you are already a complete human being on your own, so no one else can complete you

9. Don’t give unsolicited advice 

10. Never miss an opportunity to brighten someone’s day 

11. Our mission in life (indeed, our innate being) is about being happy so do what makes you happy as long as it does not hurt someone else

12. It’s never too early to learn about and apply knowledge of personal financial management so invest in this knowledge; financial independence is key

13. Invest in moments, not things. Material things just create clutter while moments are experiences that give you true happiness

14. Mental well-being is just as important as physical well-being and there’s no shame in seeing a therapist regularly

15. Read voraciously. It’s an easy and fun way to learn and grow 

16. 7-8 hours of sleep regularly is important for one’s well-being and productivity 

17. Cultivate and set aside time for your hobbies 

18. Make time for close friends and family 

19. Movement/ some form of exercise is a great way to improve your mental and physical well being 

20. Spending time with pets (especially dogs) and nature is very therapeutic 

21. Be there for your friends and family, especially in times of grief 

22. Regularly donate to charity 

23. There is a higher power/ being looking out for us 

24. Some skills, e.g., changing a tire and cooking, are life skills everyone should know—irrespective of gender 

25. Take some risks in life/ get out of your comfort zone once in a while; it helps you grow 

26. Look for the lesson in hard times/ challenges 

27. Try and spend time alone regularly 

28. Never be ashamed or apologise for being yourself 

29. Cultivate a practice of gratitude

30. Always look for the silver lining 

31. Work at finding a balance in life; life is not just about work 

32. We all make mistakes in life; learn to genuinely apologise and take responsibility for your mistakes as well as learn from them 

33. Set an example for the next generation in your behaviour

34. It’s a good thing to have an opinion and never be afraid to express it 

35. Emotional abuse is just as bad as physical abuse 

36. Travel when you can. It opens your mind and is a great way to meet new people and experience different cultures 

37. Always try and be kind, even when giving constructive feedback 

38. Mean what you say and say what you mean 

39. A genuine apology comes with changed behaviour 

40. Anything that’s worthy in life comes with time and effort

41. Don’t be pressured by timelines in life—we all have different paths in this journey, so stop comparing yourself to others your age

42. Don’t lose that inner child. Children know what true happiness is and are not afraid to be themselves

To Be, To Listen

Noise. 

It was there when I first emerged into the world. It's always there, I'm accustomed to it--to the point that when it's quiet, I feel like something is missing. 

There's the constant urge to fill moments with noise that have resulted in the inability to be still and to listen. To be still. To be. Whether my phone and the myriad of distractions within, or movement, or the many books I've read, I've forgotten how to exist in silence. 

Yesterday, I went on a surprise visit organised by the Executive Director of Metis, where I'm interning this winter. We ended up at Nairobi National Park, and the open greenness of the park juxtaposed with the city in the background was ideal for thinking, as was the conversation sparked my colleagues, from which two themes emerged: stillness and attention. 

I could contextualise where these came from, but I think that matters less than the fact that they did. And they resonated, deeply. 

I've forgotten how to be still. I've forgotten to use that stillness to pay attention in a way that matters. Instead, stillness is so foreign that it's almost frightening. That I rush to fill it--either with distractions that take me away from it or with ruminations that feed into a growing sense of anxiety about my life, about the future, about my country, about existence itself. 

"Who would you be without your anxiety?" My therapist asked me this question about a year and a half ago and it stopped me in my tracks. It's a question I'm still exploring, and I'm slowly realising that the stillness that feeds my anxiety is the same stillness I'm called to pay attention to in order to dissolve it. 

I have forgotten how to be bored. We as a society have forgotten how to be bored. This has implications on my ability as a 30 year old to create vs. just execute. I can't even begin to imagine what this means for children. 

What does this mean for me, then? 

I'm holding myself accountable, gently, kindly, to be still. To tune into that stillness and pay attention to it and to what matters. To be grateful for the ability and privilege to do so. To stop letting my head be louder than my heart. 

On Being Kenyan

                            Quintessentially Kenyan

21 September 2013. A dark day in Kenya's history but one that also brought a lot of unity. Everyone came together to help. "Even the Indians," it was said. "Najivunia kuwa mkenya" was shared by Kenyans near and far.

Today, you see everyone with that beaded bracelet on their wrist. You know the one I'm talking about. Kenya on one side, the Kenyan flag on the other.

Or that feeling of happiness when you hear someone speak Kiswahili on the other side of the globe. "I'm Kenyan too!"

Don't get us started on our beaches and our national parks. They're amazing, and you should definitely check them out.

What does it mean to be Kenyan?

Recently⁠—unfortunately⁠—for most people, being Kenyan has been a passive, positive thing. We celebrate the good but turn our faces away when confronted with the bad. Somebody else's problem, right? It's easy to see differences emerge once we have to deal with the hard stuff. Especially so when our privilege means that the hard stuff actually serves us⁠—even if this is at the expense of others.

We do not have a shared Kenyan identity. We do not have shared pride in being Kenyan.

Sure, there are some things about Kenya we are willing to celebrate loud and proud. But if we truly had a shared identity and were proud of being Kenyan, it would mean that we'd be willing to put in the work to deal with the stuff that's not so great.

Misaligned incentives are at the core of many of the issues we have here. Think about corruption⁠—it serves many to engage in this. In fact, thinking about getting rid of corruption is likely to have some people squirming, because the current systems serve them. We feed into a system that serves us, without regard for those who're punished because they can't engage with it, for many reasons including affordability (strange how we think of corruption as being affordable or not, isn't it?). Let's take another issue, traffic. A similar dynamic is at play here, where people are willing to watch out for themselves, without care for how this impacts others.

I don't think that there are groups that are more or less guilty of this than others—at least, the idealist in me hopes so. However, it does seem that over time, those with the determination to make changes lose steam and give way to a commonly-held cynicism. It won't change in our lifetimes, so why bother at all?

Why bother at all?

Because Kenyans are resilient and warm and innovative. Because our entrepreneurship culture is to be celebrated. Because of a myriad of other reasons I couldn't begin to name.

Because why shouldn't people speak about us they way they do Nigeria and South Africa?

What is it going to take? How do we build a shared identity, and start to strengthen that which is good in our country as we work to change that which is not?

Honestly, I don't know. I'm hoping that there will be some wiser than myself who'll read this and reach out with an answer.

What I do know is that individuals can make commitments in the right direction. Commitments to question the status quo. To believe that we can be better. For those who can, to use our privilege to elevate other Kenyans. To stop only watching out for ourselves. To be kind.

10 Lessons from Books That Changed my Life

Roll your eyes at this title all you want, but I am absolutely giddy with glee at being able to use a click-baity headline that’s truthful! And sure, it’s not that reading these book was like immediately ingesting a magical formula. It’s more that when I read them, the messages resonated with my journey and where I was at the time, and there’s something powerful I took away from them that’s stayed with me to date. Personal development/ lifelong learning is one of my top values, and these books have spurred me along on that journey. 

Disclaimer: I expect that this list will evolve over time; both as I read new books but also as I revisit old ones whose messages may resonate better than they initially did. 

1. We become (or manifest) what we think, from The Secret by Rhonda Byrne. The central thesis of this book is that we manifest what we think, to the point that we manifest EXACTLY what we think. I remember one particular part of the book, where the author references someone imagining a feather in great detail, and then a few days (weeks? months?) later, seeing that exact feather float down in front of them. Now, when I read that book, I may have taken the message more literally than I should’ve (as you can tell, I’m skeptical (but open to changing my mind)), but now have come to realise that our thinking is something incredibly powerful, and can profoundly influence who we are. Seems obvious when I put it that way, right? By thinking happier thoughts, by internalising them, we can truly BECOME happier. Jury’s still out on manifesting pretty feathers.  
   
   
   
   
   
   
2. Vulnerability is not weakness, from Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead by Brené Brown. Us mere mortals cannot hope to put into words the power of her work, so if you haven’t already, I’d encourage you to check out her iconic TED Talk and then read this book as soon as you can. I’ve read it about three or four times in the past three years, and it’s probably the book I gift others most often. 
   
   
   
   
   
3. Sleep is a nonnegotiable priority, from Why We Sleep: Unlocking the Power of Sleep and Dreams by Matthew Walker. Here’s another simple lesson that we may be forgiven for thinking is more accepted than it currently is. I’d always known sleep is necessary on some level, sure. This book really hit home WHY we need to sleep, why we don’t just need to sleep, but need good quality sleep, and all the scary stuff that can happen if you don’t sleep. I’d especially recommend this if you’re in a professional path where sleep is often the activity that gets compromised due to academic or professional work loads. Oh, look! He’s another one of those with an awesome TED Talk you can check out.
   
   
   
   
   
   
4. Solve for energy, not time, from The Power of Full Engagement: Managing Energy, Not Time, Is the Key to High Performance and Personal Renewal by James E. Loehr and Tony Schwartz. Along the same work-life balance lines for lack of a better category (life-life balance maybe?), this book helped me realise that when your energy is at its highest level, you bring your best self to all aspects of your life and get the best out of all your resources, including time. And there are things we can do to cultivate and replenish our energy and but we DO need to remember that our energy is not infinite (hence the need for replenishment). 
   
   
   
   
   
5. Simplify, reduce, prioritise, from Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less by Greg McKeown. This books speaks a lot about prioritising in a professional context, but the stuff that I took away was more about prioritising personally; for example, the people whose opinions matter and the things I choose to spend my time (and energy!) on.
   
   
   
   
   
6. All we have is now, from The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. This book, along with conversations with the friend who gave it to me, have helped ground me in the present (another simple, obvious thing I don’t do enough). I realised I was spending unnecessary time and energy analysing my past or preparing for my future—time and energy that were taking away from today.
   
   
   
   
   
7. We’re capable of terrible and beautiful things, from The Ten Types of Human: Who We Are and Who We Can Be by Dexter Dias. This book is a TRIP. Dias explores ten archetypes of humans, making the case that we can be (and we are) all of them. All of the greatest and worst of humanity’s achievements are things are things we’re ALL potentially capable of. It’s scary and yet empowering at the same time. Emphasis on the empowering; we’re not necessarily slaves to our human nature (whatever that means), but can CHOOSE. 
   
   
   
   
   
8. But mostly, we tend toward beautiful things, from Humankind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman. I know, I know, humans are crap sometimes. Well, we choose to be. This is the perfect follow up to the previous title. It was the perfect read to end my 2020 with and reminded me that actually, humans are pretty decent overall (you’re probably at all the way at skeptical on a scale from 0 to skeptical, but trust me, check it out). Not only does this book make the case for humans being good and decent, it works to dispel some of the erroneous myths based on sensationalised cases like Kitty Genovese’s murder and the Stanford prison experiments. 
   
   
   
   
   
9. Say yes!! From Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes. This one is self-explanatory, but I experimented with using this for about a year, and I definitely felt much happier/freer/ less encumbered. 

And last but not least,

 

10. Romance is a great genre, from the Bridgerton Series by Julia Quinn. I know, I know, you expected this post to be full of preachy, self-help-y wisdom, and then I threw a historical romance series at you. Psshhh. Life is nothing if there’s no time for fun! This is the first historical romance series I read more than a decade ago (maybe even the first romance series?), and it opened up the genre for me. It’s funny, well-written, with believable characters who have GREAT chemistry (not just in the romantic sense). Of course I’m celebrating now that it’s been (further) popularised by the aforementioned Shonda Rhimes in a new Netflix series. (Us diehard fans are shaking are heads as we breathe “FINALLY!”)

On Social Intelligence

 

I first read Daniel Goleman’s ‘Social Intelligence’ in December 2015, on a year-end trip with my parents. I enjoyed it then, and have intended to revisit it since. 

I’m not quite sure what took me so long—I finally picked it up a few weeks ago and finished it this weekend—but I’m glad I read it at this point, as it was incredibly timely. This is not only because COVID has changed social interactions and connections in an interesting way, but because over the past year or so, I’ve been thinking about connection and trying to be more deliberate about this. 

If I was to sum up the central theme of this book, it would be this:

Our social intelligence, which Goleman organises into two categories (social awareness, what we sense about others, and social facility, what we do with this awareness), is something that is shaped by our backgrounds, our cultures, and our pasts, but it can also be worked on through our lives. This does require a degree of deliberation, but its payoffs can be huge. Working on and applying social intelligence can have lots of benefits to us and those around us; on the flipside, neglecting it can have detrimental effects. 

It's important enough to share, so I won’t paraphrase. Here is how Goleman breaks down the components of social intelligence: 

Social awareness

Social awareness refers to a spectrum that runs from instantaneously sensing another’s inner state, to sensing her feelings and thoughts, to “getting” complicated social situations. It includes:

• Primal empathy: Feeling with other; sensing nonverbal emotional signals.
• Attunement: Listening with full receptivity; attuning to a person. 
• Empathic accuracy: Understanding another person’s thoughts, feelings, and intentions. 
• Social cognition: Knowing how the social world works.

Social facility

Simply sensing how another feels, or knowing what they think or intend, does not guarantee fruitful interactions. Social facility builds on social awareness to allow smooth, effective interactions. The spectrum of social facility includes:

• Synchrony: Interacting smoothly at the nonverbal level. 
• Self-presentation: Presenting ourselves effectively. 
• Influence: Shaping the outcome of social interactions. 
• Concern: Caring about others’ needs and acting accordingly. 

 The following is a (by no means comprehensive) list of my reflections inspired by this book, and built on by thinking about the content and speaking to others: 

1. Empathy is undervalued but incredibly important. Lack of empathy can change an I-You relationship into an I-It relationship. This makes it easy to ‘other’ people, which can lead to Us vs. Them walls. There are things we can do to build empathy—I’m not going to be comprehensive here due to numerous resources available elsewhere—but there’s something to be said about listening to those around us and ensuring we expose ourselves to diversity. 
   
   
2. Emotions are contagious. We all know this on some level. Everyone has emotions, and those emotions can be contagious—more so depending on our relationship with the person in question. This brings up another recurring theme for me this year, that of boundaries. This point calls on us to be more deliberate about our boundaries, both in terms of what we allow into our space, but also in terms of how we express our own emotions and put them on others. 
   
   
3. Our relationships shape us. What’s that saying, something about you become the five people you spend the most time with? Well, it’s true! And when I say shape us, these relationships shape us on a biological level, to the point of influencing how various genes are expressed. It again brings up the point of deliberation. When we’re younger, we do not have as much control over the people we spend time with. However, as we become older, we can be thoughtful and intentional about the relationships around us, and how we cultivate connection in these relationships. This intentionality must also extend to thinking about how we show up for those we have relationships with. 
   
   
4. Humans are wired to connect—connection has a wide range of benefits and can even serve to make us happier (no surprise) and healthier. Another word that’s come up a lot this year: interconnectedness. We seek, crave, NEED connection with others, yet often feel ashamed of this. Not only should this need not be a source of shame, but it should be something we act on, something that we use to understand we actively need to cultivate connections with those around us. Just like buying a plant and not watering it is a sure way to kill it, being in a relationship, any relationship, and not working on it is a similar death sentence. Work can look like many things here, but it’s important to consider conversation (distance and time don’t kill relationships, silence does), vulnerability, and shared experiences (at varying degrees of complexity). 
   
   
5. Friendships are even more important than we thought. There’s a prevalent underlying belief that friendships are less important than family and romantic relationships. However, studies have shown that this is not the case—for example, a study quoted in this book showed that people often reported being happiest when they were with friends. Again, this points back to the need to be deliberate, and to cultivate. 
   
   
6. We all need a secure base. Every relationship ideally should provide a secure base, but I think that this is even more important in some cases. For example, parent-child (this relationship lays the foundation for our attachment style when we’re older), therapist-patient, partner-partner, supervisor-employee. I’m not saying this is not important in other relationships like teacher-student and friend-friend, but in these cases, there are often more options for people who can provide that secure base. 
   
   
7. Care and deliberation are required as we raise the next generation—all the way from small family units to bigger communities. These don’t just include providing a secure base and cultivating social intelligence from a young age, but also providing a space to learn and fail and recuperate, and taking extra care with young people in juvenile correctional facilities. Towards the end of Goleman’s book, I was struck by the sections where he spoke about youth who had committed crimes and been placed in these facilities, but whose integration back into society was handled with care and empathy, vs. youth who were not given that same level of care, and for whom staying out of trouble became much harder. 

Lessons from 2020

 

If you’re here, I’ll assume you’re already aware that 2020 has been quite a shit-show. It seems as though every day, one wakes up to crazier and crazier news, till the temptation to bury one’s head in the sand and hibernate is almost irresistible. I won’t debate how much of the craziness is due to unavoidable circumstance, but it’s definitely true that a lot of it is due to human beings’ inability to be kind, courteous, and unselfish (y’all know who I’m talking about). 

Before I delve in, a caveat. The ability to take 2020 and learn something from it is definitely due to the privileges I’ve been afforded so far, and some of these lessons will not resonate with others for the same reason. 

Here’s what I know so far: 

1. Life refuses prediction. How many of us, when asked what we thought our 2020s would hold, would have been able to accurately predict the future? This craziness aside, I look back at my life and see a pattern where some of the best things that happened to me (best either at the time, or due to what they taught me) were things I couldn’t have planned for. And for someone who loves planning and being control, this isn’t easy to accept! 

2. When people show you who they are… listen. I’ve found that I tend to hold on to an idealistic sense of who the people in my life are, based on who they used to be, who I want them to be, or sometimes, even my own projections. However, I’m not the only one! I’ve seen my best friend do this recently too, and it’s easier to look in a mirror when you have external examples to reference. 2020 has been a perfect way to do a people test, if you will – sort of like if you’re on a first date at a restaurant, how does the other party treat the staff?  

This year, human rights issues have been at the forefront. We’ve watched as the rights many take for granted – to live, to love, to exist, to be, to have control over our lives and our bodies – have been curtailed or infringed upon, either due to COVID-19, related responses, and worst of all, people believing they have the right to decide for others. Pay very close attention to how those around you have interacted with, talked about, and responded to these issues. Pay very close attention to those around you who HAVEN’T interacted with, talked about, and responded to these issues. Let go of your ideas of these people and see them without a biased lens. 

3. Trust your instincts. This has shown up weirdly for me this year, in terms of the people I’ve chosen to spend time with and the opportunities I’ve chosen to pursue. I won’t – or can’t – give much more detail on this one, but there’s something I was exploring earlier this year. Around the time when I had the choice to dig deeper or pull away, my instincts FLARED up and I decided to pull away. I was still in two minds, though, until others reached out weeks after to confirm what I’d felt. I now look back and realise that the instincts I’ve had in the past, that I’ve sometimes felt guilty about, probably weren’t leading me the right way… and I should have just listened rather than try to rationalise. 

4. Be kind. I’m not sure I had fully appreciated the value of kindness till this year. It was something that existed, that was missed when I didn’t see it, but maybe not something I dwelled on as much. However, this year, I’ve seen the value in kindness to self, to others, to the world we live in. I’ve been inspired by tales of kindness from various places, and I’ve come to prioritise this value as a filter for people and situations I choose to spend time and energy on. 

5. As long as you’ve done your best, there’s power in surrendering to the outcome and the unknown. There are some of you who’re reading this who’re probably cheering at this right now, but it’s a lesson that’s taken a while for me to absorb (and I won’t say I’m 100% there)! This probably goes back to my first point, but I’ve realised that a need for control paradoxically erases control – as soon as you’re in an unfamiliar situation, you flounder and feel more out of control than you ever did. If you learn to ride the flow and embrace the unknown – you’ll never truly be out of control. There’s a lot this year that’s happened that I didn’t necessarily plan for, but that I’ve accepted, and found myself happier/ more at peace because of it. 

There’s definitely more but this felt like a good stopping point for now. I’d love to hear from you – what has growth and learning looked like in 2020?

Right Here

Image by enriquelopezgarre from Pixabay

This post has been building up in my mind for some time, and I finally felt like I was in the right place to verbalise what I've been feeling.

Those of you know know me well know that I like to spend a decent amount of time on self-development, introspection, and reflection. One of the tools I've been using for this is FutureMe - simple enough concept, where you write yourself a letter (email) and can choose when you'd like to have it delivered to you. I've been writing letters to myself for years now, and I'm now reaching a point where I'm getting letters I wrote 5 years ago.

What a blessing to be able to get such a direct, (relatively) objective view into the past!

I got a letter a few months ago from 2014-me - and at that time, I was feeling professionally and personally lost. I won't go into details of what the letter said, but part of it was along the lines of '...and I'm sure that you're now exactly where you need to be.'

What.

WHAT.

Epiphany, because 2014-me was totally right. If 2014-me could see where I am today, she would've breathed a sigh of relief. If 2010-me could, she'd be ecstatic! The lesson was this - I am exactly where I need to be right now, and yes, things do go wrong from time-to-time and everyday isn't sunshine and rainbows, but if we look into the future, chances are whatever is stressing us out today won't even be worth blinking over then. Of course, there are things that have happened between then and now that I wish I could take back, people I wish I could get back, but part of the lesson is that I may not be able to control what happens to me, but I can control how I choose to react to it.

It was a lovely reminder to learn to really be present and grateful for where I am now, and not worry about where I'm going to be later - and thought that this may be a useful reminder for those of you who haven't heard this recently, because it was definitely useful for me!

You are exactly where you need to be right now. If you look back at your past, it led you here for a reason, and there's no need to sweat the small stuff right now because if you look back in a few years - it won't matter all that much either.

Solve for Energy, not Time (part 2)

Photo by Simon Wilkes on Unsplash

Expounding on my last article, where I talked about optimising for being at my best energy, and some things I do to manage physical aspects of this, this one focuses on some tangible strategies to work on mental energy (but keep in mind - these two aren't fully separate and there are bound to be positive spillover effects, including regular renewal).

Mental

Mindfulness: Inspired by the growing body of research, literature, and people who speak about their experiences, I’ve made it a goal to practice mindfulness (or another form of meditation) every single day this year. I may have missed a day or two in between, but I’m pretty proud of myself so far! Right now, I’m on a streak of almost 60 consecutive days.

Do I see value in this? Yes! Among other things, this has significantly helped my ability to focus, be present, work (and play!) efficiently, and get better at recognising and processing emotions. A part of this involves building a gratitude practice, and that's also helped me get better at understanding that happiness can be in the here and now and doesn't need to be on the other side of some imaginary finish line.

Writing: There's something incredibly therapeutic, cathartic even, about putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard?) and just WRITING. Whether this means blog posts, or other pieces designed with one audience member in mind (me), I've found that this helps me to process and get very real about my experiences, what affects me in the present, as well as what I'm carrying from the past and anticipating about the future.

Reading: One of the greatest fears of my life is that one day, I may be faced with the same amount of knowledge and wisdom that's available to me today - but I won't be able to take it in. Reading, for me, is a way of exploring worlds and ideas beyond myself, of learning, of ensuring that my mind doesn't stagnate.

Understanding psychology is something I'm personally passionate about, and it's amazing how much you can learn about human psychology from reading fiction (then again - maybe not. These books were written by humans, after all).

Recommended reading

Following on from the above, some of the reading I've been doing over the past year has been incredibly helpful in allowing me to delve into and practice these topics further. Some recommendations:

Why We Sleep, Matthew Walker

Daring Greatly, Brene Brown

The Power of Full Engagement, Jim Loehr and Tony Schwartz

The Things You Can Only See When You Slow Down, Haemin Sunim

When the Body Says No: The Cost of Hidden Stress, Gabor Maté

The Science of Meditation, Daniel Goleman and Richard Davidson

Solve for Energy, not Time (part 1)

Over the past year and a bit, I've had a bit of a realisation around what's important to prioritise. This has been a lesson that's been building up over time, 'helped' by various events in my life including my experience with mental health, the recent loss of a loved one,  the observation of some of the healthy, happy and thriving older people in my life and what they had in common, and of course, my love of reading.

I think the first time I was really able to articulate this idea of solving for energy, not time, was when I did this quick interview for the McKinsey website. And since then, I'd call myself a passionate and vocal advocate of this idea.

The basic premise is this - a lot of time, we focus on how to manage our time to be able to dedicate this to the right activities. However, we should instead be focusing on how to be at our best energy, so that we can bring our best selves to whatever we do, personal or professional. This latter strategy has the benefit of not only being useful in the short run, but also in the long run.

I think we all derive our energy from different sources - and I'd encourage you to explore what these are - but there are some that are common and applicable to all, no matter who you are, like sleep, healthy eating, and regular physical activity.

I'll quickly talk through some of the things I make sure to make time for in order to optimise my short- and long-term energy - these fall under two main buckets: physical and mental.

Physical

Sleep: I recently read Matthew Walker's Why We Sleep, and it was a terrifying wake-up call (heh) to find out what the detrimental effects (again, short and long term) were of me NOT having healthy sleep habits!

Some quick, (hopefully) scary facts: 1) Sleep deprivation can lead to higher mortality, risk of cancer, heart disease, weight gain, rate of infection, Alzheimer's, irritability, inflammation, lower productivity, lower rational decision making and memory recall, lower emotional control, and lower immune system function; 2) Driving while sleepy can be worse than driving while drunk - while drunk, your response is delayed but while sleepy, if you have a 'microsleep', you may not react at all (driving after having slept less than 4 hours can increase risk of crashing by 11.5x); 3) Sleep can help improve long-term factual recall and 'muscle memory'; 4) Less than 1% of the population is able to survive on six hours of sleep and show minimal impairment; and 5) Less sleep causes immediate effects on productivity, as immediate as the very next day. Need I say more? You should DEFINITELY read the book.

Since reading it, I make it a point to start winding down for bed around 10 pm every weekday – this means putting down all electronic devices, reading a few chapters, maybe meditating a bit – to allow myself to get to sleep by 11. I've also tried to implement some of the other healthy sleep habits that Walker recommends.

Physical activity: I learnt this lesson a long time ago that if I miss a few days of physical exercise, I notice a marked difference in my well being – not just physical, but mental too. Since then, I’ve made it a goal to get some activity in every single day. If I can’t manage a full workout, then I need to get in at least 10 minutes of activity, even if it’s just a walk. Done is better than perfect – a ten minute walk I did do is better than a 60 minute workout that I missed, and again, science talks about the importance of not just doing regular physical exercise but also remaining physically active (going to the gym everyday doesn't help if I keep sitting the rest of the day without any activity at all).

My 90-year-old granddad has, for as long as I've known him, worked out every morning (and what this means has changed over the years), as well as walked every afternoon (intensity may have changed but not frequency). It's admirable to see how fit and relatively independent he is at this age - this proof was enough for me!

Nutrition: Still something I'm working to get right, so I won't say much here, but it's important to mention because it IS important.

Rest: I see this as a little different from sleep, although it may include sleep. Rest can mean recovery. It can mean making the time for short breaks between work. It can mean going for a quick walk to energise yourself. It could mean taking a sabbatical. I put this at the end because it can be a very 'mental' thing too. Basically, I've found that sprints vs. marathon allows me to be more productive, and that rest contributes to this productivity and efficiency (and yes, before you ask, this is also supported by science).

Keep an eye out for part 2, where I expound on the Mental aspects I referenced.