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...