I express gratitude through storytelling.

This post is deeply personal. I share it not just as a PhD student, but as someone who has walked alongside others in their most difficult seasons, and still, I am thankful I met them. 

Back home in Kenya, I’ve had the privilege of mentoring young people, often without even realizing it. I’ve served as a youth patron and leader, and through that role, I’ve witnessed more silent suffering than I can put into words. The weight of unemployment, broken dreams, family pressure, and mental health struggles is very very heavy. It’s indeed heavy, I will tell you that. It’s really heavy out there. 

Part of youth leadership, I’ve come to learn, is holding space for pain. You become a kind of informal counsellor, even without training. You learn to listen. To midnight phone calls, to quiet breakdowns, to stories that can’t be told out loud. Maybe that’s why I’m obsessed with empathy.

Because one night, at 2 AM, someone I cared about, a close friend I’ll call Mwenetu, called me and said, “Bro, I’m really done with this life. It’s too much to take in. I have a Master’s degree but I can’t even take care of my kids.” 

Their child was sick. They couldn’t afford the right medication. Mwenetu was pursuing a PhD, but couldn’t finish it (yes, not because of lack of fees, or stipend, no, but because of death). Yes, death. Because they were also battling addiction, depression, and shame.

Mwenetu was a believer. A provider. A person of deep conviction. But when the cracks showed, the judgment came faster than care. Even in church. The one place where they should’ve been safe. They were met not with grace, but condemnation. No one asked what was underneath the struggle. They just saw the struggle. 

I’m always sharing stories about the PhD journey. But these stories are also about something larger: how we treat vulnerability, how we hold space for uncertainty, and whether we are building systems that truly allow people to grow. Or just survive. 

This one’s for Mwenetu. 
And for anyone who’s ever whispered, “It’s too much,” and felt unheard. Mwenetu taught me to always be grateful, and everyday I choose to show gratitude to them through storytelling.  

With all the empathy there is in this world, thank you for reading. Read more here, about Mwenetu.