I Captured Aerial Views Of Ruma National Park, a wanderlust to scenic views coupled with wild sightings of the Rothschild's giraffe, the Burchell's Zebra, Buffalo herds and a Black female Rhino with it's Calf🦏 The Last sanctuary for the endangered Roan Antelope #wildlife
First, they will ignore you,
Then, they will mock you,
Then, they will laugh at you,
Then, they will betray you,
Then, they will fight you,
Then, YOU WIN.
Keep going. Refuse to be distracted.
Remember gents, until death all defeat is paychological. Theres nothing under the sun you cannot recover from with Jesus on your side. So i don’t know what you are going through, this tweet is a daily reminder to not give up or stop believing.
An African can pour libation for ancestors and be called backwards, but Hollywood can make millions romanticizing Viking rituals, Greek mythology, and Asian spirituality. We abandoned our roots chasing heaven while foreigners studied, preserved, and monetized theirs. That is not spiritual growth. That is spiritual displacement.
Never been embarrassed to wear the same fit twice, never been embarrassed to have 1 pair of shoes, never been embarrassed to sleep on the floor,Never been embarrassed to struggle. You gotta go through hard times before you live lavish. I know its on the way so i'm forever humble.
One of the most fascinating contradictions of modern Kenya is that we have a generation that spent nearly two decades in classrooms, graduated from colleges and universities, yet struggles to communicate fluently in either the official language or the national language.
Many Kenyans cannot hold a conversation entirely in English from beginning to end without borrowing Kiswahili words. The same is true in reverse. We cannot sustain a conversation entirely in Kiswahili without reaching for English phrases to fill the gaps. We constantly switch between the two, not necessarily because we are being creative, but often because our vocabulary in each language is incomplete. An issue I squarely put on the lack of a reading culture.
What is even more interesting is that sometimes neither English nor Kiswahili is enough. We pause, search for the right words, fail to find them, and then resort to our mother tongues. We say the phrase exactly as we mean it in our native language and trust that the listener will understand the feeling, interpret the context, translate it mentally into their own language, and somehow arrive at the intended meaning. Surprisingly, communication still happens.
This raises an important question: what is the true purpose of language?
If language exists primarily to transfer meaning from one mind to another, then perhaps we are succeeding. The message gets across. People understand each other. Society continues to function. In that sense, language has done its job.
But there is another side to this conversation. I like to look at things from a different perspective.
Language is not merely a tool for communication. It is also a tool for thought. The richer your vocabulary, the more precisely you can express ideas, emotions, arguments, and experiences. When language becomes limited, thought can become limited too.
Sometimes we know exactly what we feel but cannot find the words to explain it. Sometimes we have an idea but lack the vocabulary to give it shape.
What makes our situation unique is that many of us exist between languages. We are not fully operating in English. We are not fully operating in Kiswahili. We are often disconnected from our mother tongues. We live somewhere in the middle, borrowing from all three whenever necessary.
Perhaps this is not entirely a weakness. It reflects the complexity of who we are as a people. We are multilingual, multicultural, and constantly adapting. Our conversations are a living blend of history, identity, education, and culture.
Yet it should make us reflect on the outcomes of our education system. After years of formal education, should fluency in at least one language not be a reasonable expectation? Should we not be producing graduates who can articulate their thoughts clearly, confidently, and precisely in English, Kiswahili, or their native languages?
The average Kenyan today speaks in a linguistic mosaic: a little English, a little Kiswahili, fragments of mother tongue, and plenty of context. Somehow, understanding emerges from the chaos.
Maybe that is our greatest strength. Or maybe it is a symptom of something deeper that we have never fully addressed.
Either way, it is a conversation worth having. I find myself asking so many questions but maybe one day we will find answers to some of these questions.
As you were.