Cliff was tired. Tired of trying. Tired of beginning. Tired of explaining. Tired of watching other people’s lives seem to move forward while his seemed to circle the same drain. He started a printing business. It failed. He tried selling clothes. That failed too. Then he opened a barbershop. A few months later, that was gone. Each failure seemed different on the surface. Different product. Different customer. Different location. Different excuse. But beneath them was the same man. And the same beliefs. Unfortunately, Cliff couldn’t see that yet. All he could see was evidence that things didn’t work for him, that people didn’t support him, and that some people were simply born with advantages others would never have. And perhaps his father had been right all along. “MEDIOCRE.” Cliff was twelve when his parents separated. Until then, life had been reasonably predictable. His family was middle-class. There was food. School fees were paid. His mother cared deeply for him. His father was pr...
Isabella knew it was time to let go. She had known for months, truthfully, even years. For ten years, she had built what most people would call a successful career. She was a corporate lawyer. She was respected. She was well paid. Her performance reviews were excellent. Clients asked for her by name. There was even a BMW sitting in her driveway with only three months of payments left. By most reasonable Kenyan standards, Isabella had made it. The only small inconvenience was that she hated almost every minute of it. Not the dramatic kind of hate that makes you throw a laptop through a window and resign in an email containing several words HR has to Google. Hers was quieter. She woke each morning and felt something inside her sink. Then she showered. Dressed beautifully and applied her makeup. Put on the heels. Picked up the expensive handbag. And went to work. Sometimes misery is extremely well dressed. For years, Isabella had called what she was doing hard work . But there are t...