Ian's Blog

  For generations, society has been told that morality is the child of religion—that without scripture, clergy, commandments, rituals, and divine consequences, human beings would descend into chaos. The argument insists that only belief in a higher power can tame the darker impulses of human nature. Yet when you observe the real world honestly, a more uncomfortable truth emerges: morality has never been the exclusive property of religion. In fact, some of the most empathetic, respectful, and fair-minded individuals are those who are not driven by religious dogma at all. This raises an essential question: Is morality possible without religion? And more importantly, why do so many non-religious or agnostic individuals often demonstrate more human decency than the devout? In Kenya, this question is even more relevant. We are a deeply religious nation—churches on every corner, crusades every weekend, prophets on every billboard, and prayer meetings on every problem. Yet, ironically, w...

  One of the most dangerous assumptions in any society is the belief that legality and morality are the same thing. They are not. They never have been. History is full of moments where the law—the very instrument meant to protect justice—was instead used to justify cruelty, inequality, and exploitation. It was once legal to buy and sell human beings. It was legal to deny women the right to vote. It was legal to colonize nations, seize land, and silence entire populations. Legality has always been shaped not by what is right, but by who holds power at a particular moment in time. And whenever we confuse legality with righteousness, we give power the ability to disguise oppression as order. The idea that law equals morality is appealing because it simplifies life. It allows people to outsource their conscience, believing that as long as they follow the rules, they are good citizens. But laws are written, amended, and enforced by human beings—fallible, biased, and often driven by self...

  Human beings carry many faces, but none more layered than the face a man wears before the world. Society teaches men to project strength, certainty, and control, even when life is pulling them in the opposite direction. We admire confident men, follow decisive men, listen to assertive men—but rarely ask what lies beneath those performances. The truth is that every man carries an internal landscape far more complex than the mask he wears daily. And if you would truly like to know what men really are, the moment of revelation comes not when they are comfortable, victorious, or in control, but when they stand in danger or in doubt. It is in those fragile junctures where the truth of a man rises from the depths of the heart, shattering the practiced mask and revealing the reality beneath. Danger exposes what comfort conceals. When a man is threatened—physically, emotionally, socially, or financially—the instincts buried under layers of performance come to the surface. Some men show c...

For decades, Kenyans have faithfully paid taxes with the belief that these contributions form the backbone of a functioning nation. In principle, taxes are supposed to guarantee public goods—healthcare, education, water, electricity, infrastructure, and security. They are the social contract through which a population entrusts its government with the responsibility of managing shared resources for collective benefit. Yet the lived reality in Kenya creates a troubling contradiction: even after paying some of the highest taxes relative to income in Africa, citizens still finance nearly all essential services from their own pockets. The result is a deeply unfair system where taxpayers carry a double burden—one through the official tax system, another through private spending for services the state has failed to provide. This raises an uncomfortable but necessary question: what exactly are we paying taxes for? Consider healthcare. Every Kenyan knows that walking into a public hospital oft...

  In today’s world, the family unit is under attack from forces both subtle and overt. From media narratives to economic incentives, social engineering, and ideological campaigns, the traditional family structure is increasingly fragile. While much attention is given to the cultural consequences of broken families, fewer people consider the beneficiaries of this instability. Yet, if we follow the thread, the picture is clear: corporations, governments, the dating and entertainment industry, social engineers, the mental health sector, and influencers all profit when families fail to form and endure. Herein, I examine who benefits and how, when society drifts away from stable family structures. Corporations Win When People Stay Single and Lonely A society of isolated, single individuals is a corporate goldmine. Corporations have learned to monetize loneliness, selling products, services, and experiences that would be unnecessary if stable families existed. Consider the economics of l...

  We live in a generation that treats kindness like a currency something you spend today so that life pays you back tomorrow. People say, “ Just be nice and good things will come your way. ” It sounds noble. It sounds comforting. It also sounds dangerously false. Because here’s the truth most people don’t want to hear: Being nice will never get you anything. And if it does, it was never guaranteed. Niceness was never meant to be a reward system. It was never meant to be a strategy for success. It was never meant to be a secret shortcut to blessings, opportunities, or popularity. Being a good person is not an investment portfolio. It is not a loyalty card with points you redeem later. It is simply a way of being one that does not promise applause or protection. But somewhere along the way, society distorted kindness into a transactional religion. People started treating goodness like a deal with the universe: “ I helped you, so help me. ” “ I supported you, so support me.” “I d...

  One of the most overlooked truths about human relationships is that no two people ever experience the same person in the same way. We often assume that because we grew up in the same house, under the same roof, with the same mother and father, we must have shared identical childhoods. But in reality, even siblings, raised by the same parents carry profoundly different emotional memories, interpretations, and wounds. What people forget is this: parents are not static beings. They are shaped by time, circumstances, and their own evolving struggles. By the time one child is born, the parent is someone entirely different from who they will be for the next child. A firstborn often meets parents who are young, inexperienced, anxious, and determined to “get it right.” A lastborn, on the other hand, meets parents who are older, more relaxed, possibly more financially stable, or more emotionally tired. Middle children meet versions of parents who are juggling the chaos of life, career pre...

For decades, Kenya’s politics has been defined by ambiguity, personality cults, and a deliberate withholding of critical information from the electorate. Presidential campaigns often revolve around charisma, ethnicity, and dramatic populist promises rather than a clear, verifiable blueprint of governance. Yet elections determine not just who occupies State House but who will run key ministries, shape public policy, manage billions in public funds, and influence Kenya’s developmental trajectory for decades. It is therefore both logical and necessary to demand that presidential candidates disclose their cabinet secretaries, their assigned portfolios, and the Head of Public Service before elections. Such a requirement is not merely procedural; it represents an essential reform aimed at restoring integrity, transparency, and competence within Kenya’s governance ecosystem. The current system encourages political theatrics over substantive leadership. Candidates spend years campaigning wit...

  Many times online, I’ve come across a narrative that honestly doesn’t sit well with me. It’s the growing trend of dismissing university degrees, calling them “useless,” or implying that anyone who went through the academic journey somehow made the wrong choice. I want to say this clearly and gently: do not let anyone reduce the value of your education. You spent four years or even more working hard, showing up for classes, writing exams, conducting research, surviving stress, and pushing yourself through seasons that many people will never understand. That journey is not useless. It is meaningful, it is valid, and it deserves respect. There is a certain confidence that people on the internet have gained these days, especially when speaking down on formal education. They argue that degrees are unnecessary, that “school is a scam,” or that success comes only from entrepreneurship or luck. While it’s true that the world is changing and that there are many paths to success, it does n...

  We like to pretend that morality is a clean, universal standard that right is always right, wrong is always wrong, and everyone who fails should be condemned equally. But real life exposes a far more uncomfortable truth: all of us are selective sinners. We commit the sins we are comfortable with, excuse them, justify them, even spiritualize them and then judge others for the sins we find personally uncomfortable or socially unacceptable. It is one of the oldest human hypocrisies, and one of the most persistent. The sins we comfortably carry Every person has weaknesses they tolerate in themselves. Some people lie easily but react with disgust toward someone who steals. Others gossip freely but condemn people who cheat. Some struggle with lust but criticize people who drink. There are those who have tempers yet judge those who are greedy. Everyone has a moral blind spot,  a category of wrongdoing they downplay because it is familiar, because it is convenient, or because it...

  When your country is constantly mentioned in the same breath as corruption, money laundering, fraud, and terror financing, something strange happens: the world looks at you the same way a parent looks at a child who brings home a “We tried” award. Suddenly, the stigma stops being about the system and starts becoming about you . The sins of the nation follow its people like a bad smell. You don’t just carry a passport; you carry a reputation that enters the room five seconds before you do. At every airport, every bank, every form—your nationality starts speaking on your behalf, and trust me, it’s not giving a TED Talk. An X useer recently shared a painful reality. The kind that makes you die inside: “I can’t do a simple bank transfer from a Swedish bank to a Kenyan bank because the EU has flagged Kenya for corruption, high risk of money laundering & supporting terrorism. You don’t know what a limitation this is.” Imagine that your personal money, your clean money, your hard-...

Many Christians today are being led into spiritual and financial oblivion by pastors who preach miracles they themselves do not live by. It has become common to see believers flocking to churches in desperation, hoping for supernatural interventions that will fix financial struggles, heal brokenness, or reverse poor decisions overnight. But beneath the loud prayers and dramatic testimonies lies a heartbreaking reality: many of the miracles being advertised are traps designed to exploit the vulnerable. The saddest part is that the exploitation is wrapped so neatly in scripture that people no longer see it as manipulation—they see it as faith. Think about how most of these situations begin. People take loans with genuine hope — not greed, not foolishness, but real hope. Some borrow to start a business they believe in, others to expand a small project or pay school fees for their children. Many are simply trying to navigate a difficult moment in life or escape the sinking sand of poverty...

In Kenya, people can lie — not always out of malice, but often out of survival. Broken systems force citizens to bend rules just to live a normal life. Poverty robs you of dignity until small lies feel like necessary tools for navigating daily obstacles. You grow up thinking it’s normal to “know someone,” to “add something small,” to “talk nicely” so things move. It becomes part of the culture, not because Kenyans are bad people, but because the environment forces you into habits you wouldn’t need in a functional system. Nothing prepares you for the shock of visiting a country where the systems actually serve the people. Where the government feels like a service provider, not a predator. Where public transport comes on time. Where public spaces are clean. Where food is safe. Where tap water is drinkable. Where everything just… flows. You suddenly see what life looks like for people who don’t carry the weight of broken systems on their shoulders. People who don’t wake up stresse...