Back in 2012, I received a text message from a young lady, devastated after losing her brother in an accident while he was at work. She wanted to know how I had ‘managed’ when my dad died earlier that year. Her text found me still raw, taking one wobbly step at a time to find
My memory takes me several years back to a very cold night; somewhere in the central highlands, sandwiched between the eastern base of the Aberdare Range and the western slopes of Mount Kenya, my dorm mates and I stood outside the door to our dorm tightly hugging our books – not out of love but
I could hear my feet and tens of other runners’ feet pounding the tarmac, heavy breathing and sighing from every angle. I pushed on, tired but determined, my legs feeling heavy as I jogged upwards. It was my fourth time participating in a marathon, my second in this course that is known to be very
“Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” -C.G. Jung I can still vividly see my mother standing before me, hands akimbo, her anger palpable and eyes narrowed as she spat out the words – ‘who do you think you are?’