The Inbetweeners

The Kenyan Government has been cracking down on opposition rhetoric lately. In so doing, bringing the consequences of speech into sharp relief.  Understand, that I am used to being able to say whatever I want, whenever I want, within reason. The idea that I could be targeted for criticising the government, while not unfathomable, is still new to me because that is not the Kenya I grew up in. I grew up in the Kenya that bullied our President off Twitter; the Kenya that satirized the President in political cartoons, op-eds and comedy shows; the Kenya that embraced social media as a way to organise and amplify popular dissent, while allowing some semblance of anonymity. But I suppose this Kenya merely masked another. And I was willing to overlook it because Kenyans on Twitter was an effective funnel for public vitriol and frustration. Bullying a President off Twitter did not stop him from co-opting and, effectively silencing, the opposition. It did not stop him from using the powers o...

In university, when I made it known that I was Kenyan, I always caveated my identity by saying that I was the "one Kenyan who does not run." Outside of my country's reputation, running never aligned with my spirit or idea of fitness. And, as a result, I used to declare that "I would rather be eaten alive than have to run away from danger." Therefore, the fact that I consistently ran for 76 minutes is a fucking marvel. The fact that I ran for a full 10km is a damn delight. And the fact that I chose to do this, and trained for it ... a fucking testament. For the first time, in a long time, I feel proud of myself. It feels as if I have taken a step in the right direction; a step towards the person I can be.  And no, I don't mean a runner (although this, and a half marathon, is on the list). I mean a person with the self-confidence to realise her potential. A woman with the courage to try something new and fully submit herself to the humility of being a beginner...