The Silent Hurt Driving Our Children to the Edge
If you walk into many public boarding schools across the continent today, you will notice something deeply troubling. The high walls, and the rigid, unyielding routines don’t feel like a sanctuary for education. They feel like a detention center. In the wake of devastating tragedies like the Utumishi Girls Academy fire, the public conversation always takes a predictable route. We talk about “spoiled children,” a “lack of discipline,” and the need for stricter punishments. I couldnt beleve it, when i heard one indiviual in educationin Kenya – after this awful tragedy at Utumishi Girls academy – doare to talk about introducing ‘canning’ back in schools. Something that has been happening for the longest time. But this lazy narrative completely ignores a massive, bleeding wound in our education system: the quiet, daily emotional abuse of our children. From my own deep research into student unrest, the truth is glaringly clear. Our children are not burning schools because they are inherently malicious. They are burning them because they are angry, terrified, and utterly helpless. Now, before we go any further, I want to say something very important. This is not a blanket condemnation of every single school in Kenya. We have incredible public and private schools in this country led by amazing, selfless principals and loving teachers who protect our children daily. But we cannot hide behind the exceptions. The hard truth from research and our current headlines is that this “bootcamp” culture and silent frustration are an overwhelming reality in the majority of our public boarding institutions. When Schools Become Battlefields The public school system has become a breeding ground for trauma. Many children are already coming from fragile backgrounds, dealing with poverty, neglect, or domestic friction at home. They enter school hoping for a safe space to grow, but instead, they are met with systemic hostility. Overcrowded dormitories, poor sanitation, and extreme academic pressure create a baseline of constant physical and mental stress. But the heaviest blow comes from the culture of authority. Teachers, administrators, and staff—overworked, underpaid, and drowning in their own personal life stresses—frequently turn the classroom into a battleground. They use their power to humiliate, intimidate, and break the spirits of the children in their care. Instead of mentors, these authorities become the enemies of the child’s well-being. When a student tries to complain about basic human needs—like terrible food, sickness, or mental exhaustion—their voices are completely shut down. There are no channels for open communication, no trusted welfare systems, and a severe shortage of professional counselors. The institution effectively becomes a closed, suffocating world where the child has zero agency. Separating Adult Stress from Child Care We must say it clearly: our children are absorbing our adult frustrations. When a teacher brings financial anxiety, marital problems, or career stagnation into the classroom and takes it out on vulnerable teenagers, it is a form of institutional abuse. As adults, we must learn the vital boundaries of emotional maturity. We must separate our personal hardships from the way we interact with children. It is our job to absorb the shocks of life, not pass them down to a generation that doesn’t have the psychological tools to process them. When we fail to do this, we turn schools into pressure cookers, and arson becomes the student’s desperate language of protest. The Road to Healing: Intentional Living for the Masses Fixing this national emergency requires a complete re-imagining of what a school should be. We must demand an education system that values emotional safety as much as it values mean scores and high grades. This is where intentional living comes in for the wider community. We must actively choose to listen to our children. We need to build homes and school environments where children are seen as human beings who deserve representation, respect, and an emotional safety net. Let us stop treating our youth like cogs in an academic machine. By choosing presence, open communication, and soft empathy over rigid power and control, we can dismantle the bootcamp culture and give our children their sanctuaries back.
Read MoreWhy Living Closer to Nature Matters
Many of us are living at a pace that is exhausting. We move from one responsibility to another, spend long hours indoors, constantly look at screens, and rarely give ourselves time to truly slow down. Life becomes noisy, rushed, and emotionally heavy. And somewhere along the way, many of us have become disconnected from nature. Yet human beings were never meant to live completely separate from the natural world. We are part of it. Everything in nature works through relationships, balance, and cycles of support. Trees release oxygen that we breathe. Bees pollinate the food we eat. Rain waters the soil. Healthy soil grows plants, fruits, and vegetables that nourish both people and animals. Rivers, forests, insects, animals, weather, and human beings all depend on one another in different ways. Nature also helps regulate life itself. The rising and setting of the sun affects our sleep, energy, and hormones. Fresh air affects how we breathe and feel. Trees cool the environment around us. Natural spaces help calm the nervous system. Spending time outside, listening to birds, touching the soil, walking barefoot on the earth, or simply sitting quietly under a tree can help the body slow down and rest. For thousands of years, human beings lived much closer to these rhythms. We lived with seasons, daylight, animals, rain, soil, rivers, and open spaces. But many people today spend most of their time disconnected from these natural systems that once grounded human life. And perhaps that disconnection is affecting us more than we realize. When we lose touch with nature, life can begin to feel overstimulating, rushed, stressful, and emotionally draining. We forget the importance of rest, slowness, balance, community, and interdependence — the very things nature reflects back to us every day. Nature reminds us that life is not meant to function through constant pressure and exhaustion. Even the earth has seasons of growth, rest, renewal, and restoration. And perhaps human beings need those rhythms too. Living closer to nature does not mean abandoning modern life or moving far away from people. Sometimes it begins with very small things: spending more time outside,growing food or flowers,opening windows,watching the sunrise,sitting quietly under a tree,walking slowly,or simply allowing ourselves moments of stillness again. Because sometimes the healing we are searching for is not found in doing more. Sometimes it begins by reconnecting with the natural world we were always meant to belong to.
Read MoreGreen Changes That Can Protect Teams From Workplace Burnout
Let’s be honest for a second. We’ve all sat in those endless, exhausting meetings where we tell our teams to “think outside the box.” But then we look around, and we’re all trapped inside actual, windowless concrete boxes for ten hours a day, staring at screens under buzzing fluorescent lights. It’s a strange way to live, and it’s an even harder way to work. As leaders, managers, and founders, we are under massive pressure. We are navigating crazy inflation, tight budgets, and shifting goals. We want our businesses to grow, so we buy the best software, streamline our workflows, and push hard for results. But lately, you might have noticed a quiet, heavy fatigue creeping into your team. People are running on fumes. Motivation feels forced, and the creative spark that used to drive your projects is feeling a little dim. When targets start slipping, it’s easy to assume someone isn’t working hard enough or that the strategy is broken. But the truth is much simpler: it’s a design flaw in the environment we’ve built. The human brain wasn’t built to stare at a blue-light monitor for twelve hours straight while swimming in a sea of toxic notifications and daily anxiety. We don’t need to lower our standards or stop chasing big goals to fix this. We just need to remember that our teams are made of human beings, not machines. The most successful leaders are starting to realize that giving their people a moment to step out of the corporate grind and touch sides with the real world isn’t some soft, fluffy HR trend. It is a secret weapon for your business. When you align your workspace with basic human biology, magic happens. Here is how a few simple, everyday shifts can protect your people from burning out and bring the energy back into your office. Real-World Shifts That Cost Next to Nothing 1. Unsticking the Brain When Creativity Dies We’ve all been there—stuck on a problem for days, staring harder and harder at a spreadsheet, hoping the answer will just appear. It won’t. When the brain is forced to focus intensely on one sterile environment, it gets tired and locks up. But the second you step outside, your mind shifts. Watching leaves move in the wind or just looking up at the sky lets the intense, analytical part of your brain rest. That is exactly when the accidental breakthroughs and the best ideas actually show up. 2. Taking the Edge Off the Daily Stress Baseline Tight deadlines are part of the game, but constant, low-grade anxiety shouldn’t be. When a team is constantly stressed, their bodies are flooded with adrenaline and cortisol. It leads straight to careless mistakes, exhaustion, and people calling in sick. You don’t need a multi-million-dollar office makeover to break this cycle. Science shows that just looking at living plants or catching real sunlight triggers a physical reaction that drops blood pressure and calms the nervous system in minutes. 3. Rebuilding the Human Connection True collaboration requires trust, but it’s incredibly hard to build real trust when everyone is hiding behind a formal corporate persona. Sharing a bit of fresh air has a funny way of stripping away that stiffness. It reminds us that we are a group of humans trying to build something together, not just icons on a Slack channel. The Big Picture At the end of the day, looking after the environment your team works in isn’t about being “soft” or lowering your expectations—it’s just smart leadership. We can chase massive numbers and build incredible companies while still treating our people like people. You don’t have to change your entire company culture tomorrow morning. Start incredibly small. Take one meeting outside this week. Put a plant on a desk. Tell someone to go stand in the sun for five minutes when they look stressed. By helping your team step off the corporate grid, even for just a few moments, you aren’t just saving their sanity—you’re unlocking their best work.
Read MoreFinding Nature’s Sanctuary While on the Corporate Grid.
If you are reading this from an air-conditioned high-rise in Sandton, caught in the relentless, bumper-to-bumper gridlock of Lagos’s Third Mainland Bridge, or staring at a screen in a windowless Nairobi tech hub, I want you to pause. Look up. Look around you. Can you see a single living leaf? Can you hear anything unfiltered by concrete and glass—anything other than the low hum of fluorescent lights, the clattering of keyboards, and distant traffic? For most African professionals today, the honest answer is no. We are navigating a quiet, deeply unnatural paradox. We belong to a continent globally celebrated for its vibrant ecosystems, its expansive landscapes, and an ancient, cellular connection to the soil. Yet, the modern urban professional has never been more profoundly alienated from the earth. In our exhausting race for economic survival, corporate titles, and material markers of success, we have accidentally locked ourselves in cages. We trade the open sky for spreadsheets and spend up to 90% of our lives inside concrete boxes, wondering why we feel so hollow. This isn’t merely about missing a beautiful view. This is a mental health crisis wearing a corporate suit. We have come to treat chronic stress like a badge of honor, labeling the exhaustion of navigating erratic power grids, hyper-inflation, and demanding corporate targets as “the hustle.” But our bodies are keeping score. The ultimate antidote to this systemic burnout isn’t hidden in a premium wellness app, a trendy seminar, or a luxury gym membership. It is waiting just beyond the glass door. Our ancestors simply called it living; modern science calls it Attention Restoration. It is a return to Ubuntu—the fundamental truth that we cannot be whole or sustainable if we cut ourselves off from the living world that holds us. The Architecture of the Cage: How We Equated Success with Insulation Our disconnect from nature wasn’t a sudden accident; it was a slow, calculated trade-off. As our cities modernized, we began to subtly internalize a toxic narrative: that true wealth means being completely insulated from the elements. We designed a life lived entirely indoors. We move from air-conditioned homes to air-conditioned cars, descend into concrete basements, and spend our precious weekends in enclosed, echoing shopping malls. Somewhere along the line, walking barefoot on the soil, tending a garden, or simply sitting beneath a canopy of trees was incorrectly rebranded as “backward”—a rural reality we needed to outgrow. We tell ourselves we are building empires and securing our families’ futures, but we fail to see the invisible walls closing in. We work ungodly hours to fund the next upgraded smartphone, the sleeker vehicle, or the luxury apartment, believing these material acquisitions mean we have finally arrived. The truth is, the treadmill has no finish line. By isolating ourselves from the natural world to chase status, we have severed our primary source of grounding. We have traded the restorative whispers of the wind for the relentless glare of blue screens and the anxiety of digital notifications. We think we are just tired from a long week at the office. The reality is much deeper: our spirits are homesick for the earth. The Exhausted Mind vs. The Soft Fascination of Nature We like to believe that pushing through the fatigue—reaching for that fourth cup of coffee or forcing our eyes back to the monitor—is a sign of resilience. But the human brain is a biological organ, not a machine. When you spend your day managing intense office politics, financial pressures, and an endless influx of urgent emails, your brain is forced to rely on Directed Attention. This type of focus requires immense, conscious effort. It is a finite resource. When it is overextended day after day without a pause, it burns out completely, leaving us irritable, anxious, and cognitively depleted. Nature is the ultimate, built-in restorative mechanism for this fatigue. When you step into a green space, your mind shifts into what psychologists call “soft fascination.” Watching leaves ripple in a breeze, observing the nesting patterns of birds, or watching clouds drift across the sky requires no forced mental energy. It allows the analytical, stress-driven centers of your brain to go completely offline. Simultaneously, our nervous systems carry an evolutionary memory. The moment our eyes rest on trees and natural landscapes, it triggers a parasympathetic response. Your blood pressure drops, your heart rate stabilizes, and your body actively ceases the production of cortisol—the toxic stress hormone driving your anxiety. You do not need an expensive two-week safari to experience this healing; research confirms that just twenty minutes of intentional connection with nature a week can drastically reset your nervous system. Grounding the Hustle: Practical Ways to Step Off the Treadmill Let’s be entirely practical: you cannot simply abandon your responsibilities, walk away from your career, and retreat into the forest. You have lives to build, targets to meet, and obligations to honor. Reconnecting with the earth should never feel like another demanding task on an already crowded to-do list. It must become a seamless, intentional practice within your daily life. Turn your notifications off, put your bare feet on the grass, and simply allow yourself to be grounded. A Revolutionary Act of Self-Preservation We do not have to choose between our professional growth and our human sanity. It is entirely possible to navigate a successful career while keeping our feet firmly rooted in the earth. The pressures of the corporate world, the financial demands, and the fast-paced environment are not going to disappear tomorrow. But you cannot pour from an empty cup. Stepping off the treadmill to reconnect with nature isn’t a luxury, a distraction, or a step backward—it is a vital, revolutionary act of self-preservation. The next time the office walls feel like they are closing in on you, remember that your healing isn’t waiting at the bottom of a coffee mug. It is waiting just outside your window. Step out, breathe deeply, and remember who you are.
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Young People This Is The Truth
It’s heavy, isn’t it? That constant, invisible weight of having to “be” something. We see you navigating a world that demands you be “on” and “perfect” before you’ve even had a chance to wake up and figure out what you actually care about. Usually, we call it peer pressure, but it’s actually much quieter and more exhausting than that. It’s the split-second hesitation before you speak, the way you swallow a joke because it might not land, or that nagging feeling that you’re playing a character in your own life just to keep the peace. You’re treading water, trying to keep everyone else happy, while your own dreams are tucked away in a drawer somewhere, waiting for a “someday” that never seems to come. The truth is, most of the people around you are just performing, too. Everyone is looking at everyone else to see how they’re supposed to act, creating a loop where everyone is following someone who is also just pretending. But there’s a massive cost to that performance: you lose the sound of your own voice in the noise. You start to forget what you actually like, what actually makes you laugh, and what you’d do if nobody was watching. Breaking away doesn’t have to be a loud, cinematic rebellion. It’s actually a very quiet, deeply personal choice. It’s the second you stop trying to bridge the gap between who you are and who they expect you to be. It’s that first real exhale when you realize that being “liked” is a poor substitute for being truly known. When you finally step out of that race, it feels lonely at first. There’s a period of silence where the old noise used to be. But in that silence, you start to find your own rhythm. You start to realize that the things you thought were “weird” or “too much” are actually the parts of you that hold the most power. That’s where your real strength is hiding—not in the polished version of you, but in the honest one. This is the moment where purpose stops being a buzzword and starts being a feeling. It’s the energy you get from doing something because it matters to you, not because it looks good on a profile. It’s the hobbies that don’t make sense to the crowd, the goals that don’t have a trophy attached, and the values that you’re finally willing to stand up for. That’s where the joy starts to creep back in. It’s not a filtered, perfect joy, but it’s yours. It’s the lightness of realizing that you don’t need to fit in everywhere because you finally feel at home within yourself. You aren’t just surviving the day anymore; you’re actually living it. And honestly? Once you find that strength, the world starts to look a lot less like a judge and a lot more like a place where you finally belong.
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The Strong African Mask: Why Our “Strength” is Breaking Us
For years, I wore the mask. I was the “Strong African”—the one who held it all together, the one who never complained, the one who kept the wheels turning no matter the cost. On the outside, I was doing everything “right.” I was working hard, showing up for everyone, and pushing through the pain. But while the world saw a woman who had it all figured out, my body was telling a different story. I wasn’t just tired; I was disintegrating. I didn’t just hit a wall—I broke down. Twice. The Reality of the Hustle Many of us are living in this state of “barely functioning.” We have been raised to believe that the hustle is a badge of honor and that “strength” means carrying the weight of the world without making a sound. I realized, painfully, that I was exhausted, disconnected, and deeply alone. This version of strength wasn’t a virtue—it was a trap. I was carrying everything and sharing nothing. We have been taught that to be “strong” is to be an island, but the truth is that islands eventually erode. The Ubuntu Shift: From Slogan to Lifeline That is when the true meaning of Ubuntu hit me. We often say “I am because we are” as a beautiful sentiment, but for me, it became a lifeline. I finally understood that I couldn’t be well on my own. My health, my sanity, and my joy are tied to the community around me. Healing doesn’t happen in isolation. I had to unlearn the lie that strength is about endurance. I had to learn the truth: True strength is not carrying everything—it’s knowing when to let yourself be held. Dropping the Mask I decided to stop trying to hustle my way out of exhaustion. I stopped pretending. I let the mask down, reached out, and admitted the most uncomfortable truth an African person can say: “I cannot do this alone.” For many of us, this feels dangerous. We were raised never to say “I’m struggling” or “I’m not okay.” We were told it’s a sign of weakness or a lack of faith. But let me tell you, that honesty is where my healing actually began. When I stopped being “strong,” I finally started being well. The Ubuntu Takeaway: The Truth as Medicine We were never meant to carry the weight of the world on our own shoulders. If you are reading this and your heart is beating a little faster because you recognize yourself, this is your invitation to put the weight down. Here is something simple you can start practicing today: Reach out to one person. Just one. Don’t give them the “fine, thank you” version of your day. Remove the mask for five minutes and be real with them. Tell them how you are truly doing. It will feel uncomfortable. It might even feel like you’re failing. But in that moment of truth, you are reconnecting to the “we” that makes “you” possible. I want to ask you honestly: Which part of the “Strong African” mask feels heaviest for you right now? Is it the financial pressure? The emotional silence? The need to look perfect? Share your thoughts in the comments. Let’s start breaking these masks together.
Read MoreThe Liquid Trap: Why What You Don’t Know About Alcohol is Killing Our Communities
We need to be honest: many of us are not okay. Across Africa, alcohol has quietly shifted from a social ritual to a survival tool. We call it “relaxing,” but for an increasing number of Africans, it is an escape fueled by a profound education gap. Most of us are drinking substances we don’t truly understand, walking blindly into a trap that is claiming lives every single day. The Staggering Reality: Africa by the Numbers The scale of this issue is no longer a secret. Recent data from the World Health Organization (WHO) and Dateline Health Africa highlight a growing burden: The Biological Illusion: The “Stress” Lie Most people drink to “unwind,” but science shows alcohol is a chemical deceiver. The Specific Toll on Women: A Biological Warning Biologically, women are at a distinct disadvantage when it comes to alcohol. The Education Gap: What We Don’t Know In many communities, we lack basic alcohol literacy. We often don’t know: How to Support a Relative or Friend In our Ubuntu culture, we are our brother’s keeper—but that means keeping their potential, not their addiction. Stop Enabling: Do not cover for their mistakes. They must feel the weight of their choices to desire change. The Sober Window: Speak to them only when they are sober and the consequences of the night before are fresh. Avoid Accusations: Use “I” statements, such as “I am worried about your health,” rather than “You are a drunk.” Stop Enabling: Do not cover for their mistakes. They must feel the weight of their choices to desire change. The Moment of Choice: Breaking the Silence If you have read this far, the veil of ignorance has been lifted. You now know what alcohol is doing to your brain, your heart, and your community. We must ask ourselves: Will you continue to choose the bottle, or will you choose your life and the lives of your family? There is no shame in a celebratory drink in moderation, but we must be honest about where the line is. When the drink stops being a choice and starts being a requirement—when it starts slowly “unlivenning” your spirit and your health—it is time to wake up. We are harming ourselves in the name of “strength,” but true strength is found in facing our reality sober. What You Can Do Today Where to Find International Help Coping is not healing. If your “remedy” is leaving you—and those who love you—feeling worse, it isn’t medicine. It’s a poison. It’s time to choose life.
Read MoreDivorce: The Woman’s Reality
Today, I want to speak directly to the woman who finds herself standing at a crossroads. You are in a position where you are considering—or perhaps have already decided—to file for divorce. You aren’t in a high-risk, physically violent situation, but you are deeply hurt, dissatisfied, and exhausted. Right now, divorce feels like the only door left open. Before you walk through that door, I want to share 10 realities from my book, Reality of Divorce, based on my own journey and the experiences I’ve seen here in Kenya. My hope is not to judge you, but to give you the full picture of the price that is often paid along the way. 1. The Shadow of a Patriarchal System We live in a society where the systems meant to support us are often grounded in traditional, oppressive attitudes toward women. When you enter the legal and social “machinery” of divorce in Kenya, you aren’t just dealing with a breakup; you are navigating a male-dominated environment. In my own journey, I faced everything from sexual harassment by a lawyer to being mistreated by the very police meant to protect me. 2. The Weight of Depression and Isolation Unless you are walking closely with God, divorce is an incredibly lonely path. You are juggling legal systems, your children’s emotions, and your own trauma simultaneously. It is no wonder so many women suffer from depression and PTSD. The emotional turmoil is “humongous,” and it wears you down physically and mentally. 3. The “Gianormous” Financial Burden Let’s talk about the money. Legal fees are not a one-off payment; they are ongoing and staggering. You can expect to pay anywhere from 25,000 to 200,000 KES (and often much more) just to keep the process moving. Finding an honest, competent lawyer is a battle in itself—I went through seven before my process was finished. 4. The Loss of Lifestyle Unless you were the primary breadwinner, your personal finances will likely plummet. In Kenya, a large majority of divorced women, especially stay-at-home moms, end up living on the line of poverty. Your lifestyle will change in ways you cannot imagine. 5. There Are No Financial Guarantees Even with our Constitution, alimony or maintenance is never a guarantee. Corruption and systemic loopholes are real. After 18 years of marriage, I received no alimony. I know many women who had to abandon the divorce process halfway through simply because they ran out of money to fight. 6. Your Children’s “Worst Nightmare” We often tell ourselves that children are resilient and that the upheaval is temporary. It isn’t. Divorce is often a child’s worst nightmare realized: the fear that their foundation is disappearing. Statistics show that children from divorced homes in these environments are five times more likely to face poverty and are at a higher risk for academic struggles and substance abuse. 7. The “Ugliness” of the War Divorce has a way of turning adults animalistic. Your children will see sides of their parents that are contradictory to everything they knew. They get caught in the crossfire of the “war,” which can damage their relationship with both parents for a lifetime. 8. The Shrinking of the Family Tree When you divorce, you don’t just lose a spouse; you often lose an entire side of the family. Grandparents, aunts, and cousins may disappear. In my case, after nearly a decade, there has been zero contact with my former in-laws. You find out very quickly who your real friends are—both inside and outside the church. 9. The Long Road to Stability Rebuilding a stable life takes much longer than people tell you. While you are trying to heal from trauma, you are also trying to manage the “nitty-gritty” of daily survival. It is one of the toughest experiences a woman can go through. 10. A Death Without a Proper End Divorce is like a death that never ends. It lacks the immediate closure of a funeral. The pain can linger for 30 years or more, carried by both you and the children. Is There Another Way? If your marriage is not volatile or life-threatening, I want to ask you: Have you truly done everything? Final Thoughts I know you are in pain. I know you feel that leaving is the only way to stop the hurting. But unless you absolutely must leave for your safety, I urge you to take a long pause. Go back to the drawing board. Ask for the strength to reconcile if it is at all possible. Divorce isn’t just a legal filing; it’s a total life transformation. Make sure you are ready for the reality of that walk before you take the first step. God Bless Shibero
Read MoreIs Your Smartphone the ‘Other Woman or Man’ in Your Family?
Have you ever just paused for a second and noticed how quickly we react to our phones? Think about it. That little ping… that vibration in your pocket… that tiny red dot on a screen. We jump. It’s like an instinct now. But then, in that same moment, a child looks up and says, “Mom, look at this!” or “Dad, can you help me?” And what do we say? “Just a minute.” “Ngoja kidogo.” “In a bit.” The hard truth is, sometimes that minute never actually comes. If we’re being honest with ourselves—really honest—we might be accidentally teaching our children a heartbreaking lesson: that they come second to a notification. Just sit with that for a moment before you push back. It stings, doesn’t it? The Quiet Theft of Connection Now, don’t get me wrong. Technology isn’t the villain here. It’s a tool. But if we aren’t intentional, it starts to take over. It doesn’t happen loudly; it happens quietly. It steals a moment here, an afternoon there, until eventually, it steals the entire connection. And it’s stealing our peace, too. We spend hours scrolling through Instagram or TikTok, looking at these “perfect” families with their perfect smiles and curated holidays. We look up at our very normal, very messy, very human lives—and suddenly, we feel like we’re lacking. But let’s tell the truth: we are comparing our “behind-the-scenes” to someone else’s highlight reel. I’ve seen it myself—some of those “perfect” couples you see online are struggling just to speak to each other. It’s a performance. It’s a soap opera with a filter. What We Lost Along the Way I often find myself thinking back to our grandmothers—our shoshos. Evenings were so different then. There were no screens to hide behind. We sat together. I remember sitting at my grandmother’s feet, hanging onto every word of her stories. She’d tell us about the clever hare—stories that made us laugh, stories that kept us on the edge of our seats, but stories that always carried a seed of wisdom. She wasn’t just passing time; she was giving us her presence. That time was sacred. That is the Ubuntu way. And somewhere in the rush of the digital age, I think we lost it. The Rise of Digital Infidelity There’s another side to this that we don’t talk about enough: “Digital Adultery.” I’ve seen it destroy beautiful homes. Not once, not twice, but many times. I remember sitting in a cyber café years ago. A man next to me was on the phone, looking someone straight in the eye—metaphorically—and lying about where he was. He was right there, but he was telling them he was in a different town. It’s become so easy to deceive. What starts as “harmless chatting” or a secret DM slowly creates a distance. That distance becomes a disconnect, and that disconnect is what eventually breaks a relationship. You don’t even have to leave your house to wander away from your partner anymore. That’s how accessible it is. The Ubuntu Solution: The Circle So, how do we fix this? We don’t have to throw our phones away, but we do need to reclaim our intention. Let’s bring back the Circle. In our traditional African homes, we sat in circles because in a circle, everyone can see each other. Everyone is heard. I have a simple challenge for you: Create a Digital Sabbath. Just one hour every day. Put the phones in a basket. No scrolling, no distractions. For that one hour, just be there. Ask your child, “What made you happy today?”Ask your partner, “What has been heavy on your heart lately?” And then—this is the important part—really listen. Not “half-listening” while glancing at a screen, but truly hearing them. It’s Not Too Much to Ask It’s only sixty minutes. We give so much of our lives to these glowing screens; surely we can give one hour to the people who actually matter. At the end of the day, family is where we are meant to be seen and understood. Let’s not trade that for a “Like.” If your family has struggled with this “screen silence,” or if you’ve found a way to break through it, I’d love to hear from you. Let’s talk. Let’s learn from each other. Maybe we can bring the village back into our living rooms. Don’t wait for regret. Don’t wait until the distance is too wide to cross. Live your life intentionally. Use technology, but for heaven’s sake, don’t let it use you. Take care of yourself. Take care of your family. And may you live with presence and purpose. God bless you.
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