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Showing posts from 2016

Will society allow the bleeding heart entrepreneur to do their job?

This essay was originally written for the Peter Drucker Challenge 2016. Current events such as the closure of Bridge Academies in Uganda and an increasing threat of closure in Kenya have prompted me to post this. I have been wondering whether 'the powers that be' are ambivalent about social ventures until the point where they disrupt the status quo; then hell hath no fury like a cartel boss scorned... Entrepreneurship is the new cool. It is a word that inspires thoughts of celebrity-like status when one considers ‘unicorns’ such as Facebook, Uber and WeWork that have disrupted traditional business models in communication, transport and real estate. This high profile status of entrepreneurship is not only limited to developed nations. The power of entrepreneurship to be a disruptor in recent times is clear in sub-Saharan Africa, and Kenya in particular. Riding high on the ‘Africa Rising’ narrative, Kenya is continuously making its mark in the world as a regional hub of innova

9 reasons why the Standard Gauge Railway should be built AROUND and not THROUGH the Nairobi National Park

To the Director General NEMA, 9 reasons why the SGR should be built around and not through the national park: Elephants have long memories and big hearts . Do you really want to make their lives hell? (Also, have you watched Jungle Book? That should move you enough to be an animal conservationist) Trains are very loud and disruptive . Can you imagine the railway being built THROUGH your cattle pen? Animals aren't the best at reading signs , e.g., a railway crossing sign? Lions look great and I'd prefer them not to all die. Warthogs are kind of cool too and seem pretty shy. I'm pretty sure that the noise will make them uneasy. Man eating lions of Tsavo . This is a bit of a stretch, but isn't it dangerous for humans to build a railway while surrounded by wild animals? Case in point, history. We constantly build roads AROUND some rich people's houses so as not to offend them. Tourism makes a tonne of money, making the national park a rich person's h

Guest Post: Of Finding Purpose and Living a Little

I am terrible, I know. So terrible that I cannot even take time to publish a guest post. Trust me, I appreciate the irony of taking a break from life to publish a post about, well, life! Luseka Socrates took some time to muse about life, especially the rollercoaster that is post-school life. Enjoy! And if this is your cup of tea, check this out. Adulting is largely about being aware of  what matters. People watching is one of those dreary child habits I’ve been meaning to quit to no avail. Ok. Save me the pity and just laugh at what I’m going to share. It’s never that serious. Last week, in my evening moments  as I was mooching around  ‘The Hub’ –this  new mall in Karen-  with the  intent to go buy bread  at  Carrefour, I found myself pausing occasionally ,lingering and straying my eyes to people’s heads (sounds weird right?), sometimes  vexing them , nitpicking at their walking styles (that’s more weird) and scoffing  at those pairs that rubbed  PDA into people’s  faces .

Waiting in Coffee Shops: The Art of Deduction

Anyone who knows me know how impatient I am. I simply cannot stand lateness... Yet, some of the most important people in my life have a slow internal clock. The fact that I still talk to them is evidence of my goodness. Image source: Pinterest Last Friday I was impatently waiting for someone at the Java in TRM. On an aside, has anyone noticed how Javas in the CBD and all these malls frequented by the emerging consumer* have comparable service to Olive Green and those other crowded restaurants along Tom Mboya? I mean, serviettes are a luxury. You'll be lucky if your coffee doesn't splash on you when they dump it on your table! I am digressing. Coffee houses will be a post for another day. Anyway, I was reading an okay book and waiting for someone to think of asking if I wanted a coffee refill. In true Java fashion, the waiter led this couple to my table. Regardless of the fact that a book is the global 'Do Not Disturb' sign that even a moron ought to understand.

23: Finally a Second Former at this Adulting Thing

This year (now last year) has been a year of my firsts... One of them being the fact that I did not do a Birthday blogpost. My life has been simply chaotic lately. I am moving back to Nairobi. J L There really needs to be a better bittersweet emoji. The fact that it almost coincides with turning 23 means that the line between before and after is much more clearly demarcated here. So, 22 was fun! I got my first real job, moved into a new city, really ‘grew into myself’… whatever that means. In hindsight, even when things were tough, I wouldn’t take back any part of it. The biggest, resounding learning that I have had in the past year was ‘dreams change’. Fresh out of school I had a very idealistic, pretty-much-set-in-stone idea of how my life should work out. I was going to intern at a couple of fancy places, get a fancy management trainee position at one of the big four firms, sit some professional paper or other, get a cute apartment and spend my evenings sipping girly cocktails

Chronicles of the Great Beyond: Kitenge Pants

I will go as far as to say every narcissist's cliche: I generally prefer my own company to that of about 80% of the people I come across. I figured I should open with that line before you fraudulently begin to like me. However, once in a while I venture into the Great Beyond. In Kampala my Great Beyond is a dark, haunted looking bar called Iguana. The lights either do not work or have been intentionally switched off. There never seem to be enough bar stools and you will usually see people perched precariously on the ledge on the rooftop. You do not want to get me started on the floor boards! The appearance is nothing to write home about. This is one of those places that you see during the day and shudder. This really is ideal because you can't let yourself be caught out till dawn. Once treacherous sunlight shows you the real state of your surroundings, you will never be back. At this point, it begs the question: why would I, a self confessed narcissistic introvert, go to a pl