Edwin's Corner

  When she stepped on stage, Mnyindo Tairo’s voice carried a slight quiver familiar to anyone who has ever spoken while holding a story bigger than themselves. For the first-timers in the audience, that tremble sounded like uncertainty. But I’ve learned something in my years as a habit coach: the people who do extraordinary things spend most of their lives doing ordinary things — like eating ugali, scrolling their phones, and arguing with their children about homework. They look like you and me. But the moment she began speaking, the room slowly adjusted its heartbeat to hers. Her words didn’t just flow — they felt placed. As if she picked each syllable gently off the ground, dusted it, and handed it to us. She moved from left to right with the precision of someone who had rehearsed pain long enough that it no longer surprises her. And then she said it. “I’m not a witch. I’m not a husband-killer. I’m not a gold digger.” Excuse me? My eyebrows almost shot off my face. Who sta...

Every empire has its enemies. Some conceal themselves in shadows, others gather in secret rooms, and a few sip suspiciously fancy tea at 7 a.m. But the most dangerous enemy is often the one hidden inside the ruler — the quiet slide into ego, the craving to be unquestioned, the comfort of hearing only praise. If you’ve ever found yourself suspiciously irritated by feedback, allergic to correction, or deeply convinced that everyone else is wrong, congratulations — you’ve entered your own personal empire, and you’re probably sitting alone in its echo chamber. I stumbled on a story that has followed me for weeks. It wasn’t the swords or the wars or the spies reporting on people’s breakfast beverages. It was the gentle but alarming reminder that true power is preserved only when someone is allowed to hold a sword above your head — a sword that reflects your most authentic self to you. This article is about that sword , the echo chambers we all build, and the spiritual lesson hidden in...

I’m increasingly amazed at how many adults go through their days acting according to a script they never consciously created — the script of shame. It shows in how we hesitate before speaking, how we avoid opportunities, and how we shrink around people who seem more confident or booming. It hides in our habits like an outdated operating system running silently in the background. Shame isn’t just an emotion; it’s an inherited debt — something we didn’t choose, but one we somehow continue to repay throughout our adult lives. And if you’ve ever wondered why you self-sabotage, procrastinate, over-please, withdraw, or perform for approval like you’re auditioning for a Netflix special. There’s a good chance shame is still controlling the story you tell yourself. Let me show you what I mean.   Key Point 1 — Shame Begins Early, Hides Deep, and Lives Longer Than Logic Shame doesn’t start in adulthood. It starts in classrooms, kitchens, playgrounds, and family meetings. Take Mary...

  There is a strange tension that hits all of us at the beginning of each month. It whispers, “Are you getting better? Are you growing? Are you advancing?” And most of the time, if we’re honest, we don’t like our answer. We either feel behind, feel stuck, or think our progress isn’t loud enough to impress anyone on Instagram. But growth doesn’t work that way. Progress rarely appears with fireworks. It arrives quietly, through responsibility, small decisions, and honest bravery. This is the core message: you improve not by waiting for perfect conditions but by taking responsibility for what your life needs—especially when uncomfortable. Stephen Covey expressed it well: we’re surrounded by endless stimuli, but it’s only when we deepen self-awareness, conscience, will, and imagination that we stop being acted upon and become proactive. That’s the kind of growth that lasts. And sometimes, it takes a hard story—yours or someone else’s—to remind you how short life really is. Rea...

  'Edwin, what kind of nonsense are you asking me to do?' One of my clients said that to my face — with conviction. You would think I had asked him to climb Mt. Kenya barefoot or enroll in a 7-day silent meditation retreat run by monks who don’t smile. But no. I had asked him to write six gratitudes a day. My heart skipped a beat. Not because he was rude — I coach grown adults; I’ve heard worse — but because I needed to find the perfect words to help him see what I already knew : gratitude, when structured correctly, is one of the most powerful habit tools a human can ever master. Not the fleeting gratitude you whisper once a month when Safaricom gives you 200 Bonga Points. I’m talking about deliberate, disciplined, habit-forming gratitude — the kind that builds emotional resilience, enhances focus, and rewires your thinking from the inside out. Today, I want to show you the core message : Gratitude is not an emotion — it is a trainable habit that rewires how you int...

Rejection!! It’s one of the few universal languages — right up there with laughter, tears, and Nairobi traffic. It walks into our lives uninvited, sits on our chest, and whispers things we’d rather not hear. Yet, most of us treat rejection like a venomous snake instead of what it truly is: a brutally honest teacher with impeccable timing. The truth is, rejection hurts the most when we’ve built up a confident expectation — when we’ve rehearsed a “yes” in our mind only to be handed a painful “no.” In those moments, it feels personal, almost like betrayal. It shakes our identity, rattles our inner child, and sometimes makes us believe that the world is unsafe, unpredictable, and rigged against us. But here is the inconvenient truth most of us avoid like a Kenyan avoiding cold shower water : rejection is not an enemy; it is a rite of passage. It’s life’s way of removing the illusions we cling to and forcing us to grow. When Rejection Starts Early, It Shapes the Whole World Many ...

  Let me paint you a picture. Robert is that guy who looks perfectly fine on the outside—calm face, steady shoulders—but the moment he steps in front of people, his entire body betrays him. His heart races like it’s running the Nairobi Marathon. His palms turn into tiny waterfalls. His stomach starts doing backflips. And his brain? It becomes a loudspeaker shouting, “They’ll judge you. You’ll mess up. Get out!” Even if public speaking isn’t your fear, you probably know that feeling. That moment when your body reacts before you even understand what’s going on. For Robert, the stage was never just a stage. It was a trigger. And like many of us, he thought the problem was “in his head.” Turns out, the real trouble was a little deeper—inside his nervous system. The Body Remembers Even When You Try to Forget Robert’s story didn’t begin in his adulthood. It started when he was a young boy. His father — usually after a few drinks — would pull him into the living room and make hi...