Author name: Hellen Kimaru

Blog

Risk Taking: Why and How You Should Approach It.

Over the years, I have calculatedly taken lots of risks and put myself out there, but sometimes I wonder if I am taking enough risks. For instance, before I can get into any business dealings, I would say I exercise a little bit more caution than the average person. I sometimes wonder if this might have held me back from pursuing certain opportunities. From a personal perspective, I do feel like men do take far bigger risks. I might be wrong or even biased with this take. I have had conversations about risks with my girlies and we all agree the reason it might seem that men might take bigger or more risks could be associated with the level of audacity they have in pursuing the things they want.

Blog

Lessons from my entrepreneurship journey: Poverty alienates.

I have experienced first-hand how poverty can define the path for an individual, from the type of education they have access to, the type of opportunities, their standard of living and even access to some of the most basic things such as food, water, shelter and clothing. According to the World Bank “around 700 million people live on less than $2.15 per day, the extreme poverty line. Extreme poverty remains concentrated in parts of Sub-Saharan Africa, fragile and conflict-affected areas, and rural areas.” Access to opportunities I began working with communities immediately after university. The first non-profit I worked with granted me the opportunity to work with amazing girls rescued from early marriage and FGM in West Pokot Kenya. This experience was one for the books and one that shaped my desire to play a small part in creating opportunities for others. While working here, I was faced with the realities that the larger community was facing, access to drinking water was an issue for most of the community members and they would have to walk long distances to access a basic need. You can imagine the education situation. In comparison to other locations in Kenya, where you can find schools near each other, you could travel several kilometers here before locating one. The standards of living were the most basic for most households and coming from a place where I had access to most of these things without a struggle, I could only be grateful for the opportunities I had. The program we were running here was a skills training program for girls rescued from early marriages and FGM.  It was also a sponsored program that only hosted 100 girls meaning that there were a lot more girls and young people who did not have access to these types of opportunities. When I started working in Kakamega, I also saw how poverty alienated children from accessing opportunities. The program I was working on with LatitudeZero Opportunities was also fully funded. We held workshops at the orphanage we were working at.  Kids from the larger community had access to this home and would occasionally show up. They showed lots of interest in our programs, our resources, however, were stretched and it was hard to accommodate each of them. Throughout our time at this place, some of them who were consistent got a few lessons from my designated assistant facilitators, I would often catch them admiring the things they made while others learnt how to use computers for the first time. In the future, I hope to get to a place where I can easily provide these services to more kids and young people for free. Growing up, I remember going to school without a proper school bag and shoes. I would do most of my homework during the breaks between the class sessions. This was because we did not have electricity at home and by 8 P.M, my mum would ask us to go to bed so we could save on paraffin for the next day. By the time I was in eighth grade, I would wake up by 5:30 A.M, shower, and head to school. By 6:15 AM, I would be seated in class doing some extra reading because there was electricity in our classes. I was always first to arrive in our class and by the time other students arrived, I had done so much. Let’s just say I excelled while at it and was always the best student in our class. My biggest wish as a kid growing up was that some of these basic needs would have been accessible. I learnt however to make do with what was available. Call me a survivor if you will. I learnt from a young age that I needed to work twice as hard. In grade 5, I vividly remember one of my teachers who used to give me extra English lessons, she told me these exact words “Elenah, you have to work extra hard, you are the hope of your family.” She saw something in me, a potential I had not unlocked or even thought of. These words pushed me out of my comfort zone. These words have echoed over the years and reminded me that I was meant for greatness. Her encouragement played a big role in my securing a fully sponsored high school education at a prestigious national school. Had it not been for such an opportunity, maybe I would not have gotten the opportunities that followed. Untapped potential A lot of children and young people have been locked out from accessing educational opportunities, employment opportunities and the ability to have their voices heard because of their backgrounds. For some children, they have never seen the four corners of a classroom or a teacher to remind them of their potential. These kids will never know how much they could have changed the little corner of their world. They never get to unlock their dreams and the depth of what could have been. For the young people locked out of accessing relevant education, skills training and employment opportunities, they may never fully be able to live to their full potential, live fulfilling lives where they can fend for themselves, and their families and even contribute to the economic growth of communities they come from. In my line of work, I have come across different organizations trying to address these issues. I have seen children and young people accessing opportunities they wouldn’t have had access to, due to these efforts. It warms my heart to see the change, experience the change and be part of the change. However, a lot more needs to be done to change these narratives. The need for all stakeholders to work together to address these issues is more important now, especially for concerned governments. The impact of aid in poverty alienation. Humanitarian aid has been key in enabling last mile communities’ access educational, economic, health and other opportunities. With the recent closure of

Poetry

Sensational Sound Bytes: #protestpoem

The political elite, The ones we elected after a mountain of promises were made, On those days when they spent hours on end on the campaign trail, Do you see how they laugh at us now?   Our lives, Mere sound bites for them, Another opportunity to sell their agenda on national television, Yet we keep giving them airtime.   We became footnotes, Forgotten, Our parents, living in fear, Threatened about how well they raised us, A barometer of whether we deserve to be abducted or not. A barometer for the guarantee of our safety and security.   We must end this impunity! Let’s make our voices count, Our ballots, our shield and defender! Come next election, Dawn will find us at the polling station!

Blog

When we drown: A cry for help.

Take it slow. Sometimes the world moves a little bit fast than we can keep up. We are often caught up in the chaos this presents. It easy to even feel suffocated. Like we cannot make it to the next step of it all. Those times, we are drained, we do not have strength to keep going and it feels like we have come to the end of the party. We are done! For some, we go one our knees and pray to whichever God we believe in, we pray that he could remove the hurdles we face from our path. We ask him endless questions, like if things will ever be alright and if finally, we can figure it out. We ask for lots of favors and hope our faith can carry us through. For some, we drench ourselves in alcohol and anything that can give us a high. We are looking for those moments that we truly believe that we can forget our problems even if for a minute. So, we go out for most of the night and only catch some sleep in the wee hours of the morning. And when we awake, we try to find ways to sober up so we could show up to those jobs or social events at least not looking wasted, hangover, hopeless and like our problems. For some, we will wear our makeup to hide that inflamed cheek, we fell from our stupor the last night, so we hope the shade of makeup we have can cover it up. For others, we will wear our favorite sunglasses to hide that inflamed eye. “They cannot find out,” we tell ourselves but deep down we long to be saved. This state is our cry for help, we have been going about it for a couple of months and no one noticed. It seems we know how to hide it so well, but maybe sooner somebody will catch up. For some, we become shopaholics, from the latest style of clothing in the most expensive shops, to the most expensive shoes, liquor and anything that tickles our fancy. We watch as our bank balance reflects a negative, that saving account that we took so long to fatten, we watch as the proof of funds disappears. We dig our own hole, we forget those dreams we always had, like having an emergency fund, or those vacations we have saved our last coins for, that trip to Maldives and Paris. Now a dream that we may never realize. So, we become our own horror story. We pen every word of it. We become our own nightmare. And on bad days, we question our very existence. We wonder why, why misfortune chose us. And when our family and friends call us to inform us of their recent success, we loathe them for it and eventually we stop picking their calls. Like why would they be doing better than we are? We brand them God’s favorite, they must be, there could be no possible explanation as to why they could be doing so well yet we are deep in our struggles. We pray and hope somebody could pick us up from this rut or at least we can figure it out. But we do not have even the will. Our hearts are overwhelmed, our pillows become our comfort, and we hope to find ourselves, maybe someday we will. When we hit rock bottom. We ask the universe for a sign, we wish and long for one. Then one day, when all stopped working and we couldn’t even find the strength to take a shower, we reflect on what our life has become.  We wake up one day and decide we have had enough, somehow, we find the strength to hit the bathroom, after months.  The water hits different, it feels like our pain is being washed away. We stand still and allow ourselves to be in the moment. We allow the warmth of this water and this moment to reassure us. Everything is gonna be alright, it feels like our energy is renewed once again. After an hour of being in this shower, we get out and call our best friend and when they pick up we utter “I need help, I cannot do this by myself” then we sigh in relief, the weight in our shoulders has disappeared after we heard them say they have our back. And when we meet them later that day, they reassure us that they always got us. That we only needed to ask and be ready to receive the help, that its okay, it will be okay as long as we take it slow, believe and trust in the process. We sip down that coffee and look back at how tough the last couple months have been and how much we lost. But it’s okay, it’s going to be okay after all. Self-care and healing. We sign up for those dance lessons we always wanted to give a shot, we sign up for those swimming lessons and skating classes. We fill our weekends with laughter by hanging out with family and friends. Gradually, our lives come back to some level of normalcy, we are acing this. Tough times do not last! When we are fully okay, we find ways to share our light with those who need it. We share our vulnerability. We are not afraid of admitting that there are times things get a bit tough and its okay to lean on a community.

Poetry

She was just but a little girl.

She was just but a little girl, Living her life and enjoying her childhood, Trying to make memories, That would last her a lifetime.   She was just but a little girl, When they killed her dreams and aspirations   She was just but a little girl, When they married her to a 70-year-old man.   She was just but a little girl, When they pinned her down so he could put his manhood into her.   She was just but a little girl, Holding onto a little girl Hoping that she doesn’t grow up so soon, For the world was ready, But she wasn’t ready to go.   She wasn’t ready, For her little one to become another child bride, This story would have turned out differently, Is a song she sings in her head.   She was just but a little girl, Wishing, hoping, and now, She sheds a tear, Then a river, She hopes that this is not ocean bound.    

Poetry

What lies!

He told so many lies he forgot what the truth looked like, He sowed seeds of hope that he could not keep up with, He took away from the poor their last dime in the name of development, Then he vanished until the next elections.   Now we see him walking, He wants to be relatable, So, he left his range rover at the edge of the village.   He knocks on every door, Accepting the cup of tea offered with disdain, He is selling his manifesto again A humble servant of the people, He wants us to re-elect him, That he will finish tarmacking the old Nairobi Road. That the government hospital will finally get a new x-ray machine in his new term, That the new health insurance will finally cover the poor Eti afya yangu bima yangu.   He came with his usual bribe, A 50 bob here and there, A packet of unga, He left feeling accomplished, That a difference he had made.   We looked at him disappear, We now know his tactics, Tomorrow we will show up at the ballot box and vote for change, We are tired! And we finally realize that it has always been our decision to make!    

Blog

When a young girl finds her voice!

My journey to finding my voice has been one long one that took self-belief, other people believing in me and lots of taking leaps of faith and being consistent. I am grateful that as a young girl I always dreamed and pushed for those dreams. Finding my voice required me to push away self-limiting beliefs and dig deeper. 

Poetry

Conforming

She grew up marginalized, From lack of basic needs, To education being a luxury, Something meant for boys, Because they said her role was in the kitchen and bedroom.   They forced her to undergo the cut, That it made her a woman they said, And after that, she was ready for marriage, At the tender age of 11, Just when her small boobs had started hardening, What would her young one suckle from?   And in a room of four men, They held her legs apart and pinned her hands, And he forced himself into her, A baby giving birth to another baby, She had become his fifth wife. See, she did not have the luxury of an education, The know-how of motherhood, Her baby tries to nibble at her nipples, He yells at the lack of breast milk.   She is tired of living, And wonders if there was ever anything beyond this life she lives. Conforming, That’s all she got!  

Scroll to Top