Ian's Blog

  I will die on this hill: the KSh 40 billion earmarked for Talanta Stadium would have been far better spent at Kenyatta National Hospital specifically in oncology, nephrology, and cardiology research, infrastructure, and patient care. Not because sports don’t matter. Not because national pride is meaningless. But because priorities matter, and people are dying while we build monuments. This is not an argument against football, athletics, or national celebration. It is an argument for proportionality. It is a question of moral arithmetic. When a country is hemorrhaging lives from preventable and manageable diseases, pouring tens of billions into concrete and seats should at least provoke discomfort. At KNH, cancer patients line corridors waiting for radiotherapy slots that come too late. Kidney patients crowd dialysis units where machines run nonstop and still aren’t enough. Heart disease patients delay treatment because the cost of specialized care is catastrophic for ordinary fam...

  Two hundred years from now, a completely different set of human beings will walk this earth. They will fall in love, argue, build homes, ruin things, fix some of them, and believe just like we do that their moment is the center of history. And we will be gone. Every single one of us. Strangers will live on your land. Someone you will never meet will sleep in your house or perhaps be selling or demolishing it. They will never know your name. They will not wonder who you were. They will not sense your presence in the walls. You will simply be part of the past, invisible and unimportant to them. Your grave if it still exists will be unvisited. The flowers will stop coming. The headstone may erode or be moved or forgotten entirely. No one will sit beside it telling stories about you. No one will say, “They mattered so much.” Not because you were insignificant, but because time is ruthless. Time deletes everyone.That sounds depressing until you sit with it long enough for it to become...

  If there is one biblical moment that I believe should define Christianity, it is not a miracle, a parable, or even a sermon. It is a conversation, short, raw, and happening at the very edge of death. The exchange between Jesus and the thief on the cross strips Christianity down to its bare essentials and confronts us with an uncomfortable truth: salvation is far simpler, and grace far more generous, than we often make it. The Gospel of Luke tells us that Jesus was crucified between two criminals. Roman crucifixion was not a punishment for petty wrongdoing. It was reserved for the worst offenders—rebels, murderers, insurrectionists, and those Rome wanted to make an example of. One of those men, hanging beside Jesus, openly acknowledged his guilt. “We are punished justly,” he said. By every moral, social, and religious standard, this man was a failure. He had lived wrongly, harmed others, and was now paying the ultimate price. There is no indication that this thief had ever followe...