The 28th is my birthday and the 1st of March is International Wheelchair Day.
Two days that sit next to each other.
Two days that, this year, I didn’t really “celebrate.”
I reflected.
I turned 32, and looking back at the woman who started 31 with plans, fears, dreams, and a quiet determination to change her life. And you know what?
She did.
This past year, I moved out of my parents’ home, I got a job, I moved to Nairobi. That alone feels like a sentence I once whispered to myself as a dream.
I am doing work I enjoy — writing. Using my voice. Building something that feels like mine.
I am overcoming challenges daily. Some visible. Some quiet. Some exhausting. But I am overcoming them.
And maybe the biggest shift of all?
I am growing as a wheelchair user. Not just physically. Not just practically. But mentally.
I am more confident — in this chair. More settled. More at home in my body.
The insecurity that once whispered, “Are you enough?” has grown quieter. The myths that once defined me have lost their grip. The chair that once felt like a symbol of limitation now feels like an extension of who I am.
International Wheelchair Day came the day after my birthday, and I found myself thinking — what a pairing. One day marks my life. The next marks the mobility that allows me to live it fully.
This year I am not just existing in this chair. I am thriving in it. I am appreciating this journey more — even the hard parts. I am being challenged to do better, think better, advocate better.
And for the first time in a long time, I can say this without hesitation:
I feel good, not perfect, not finished. But growing.
I could say a million things about this past year. About courage. About fear. About independence. About loneliness. About faith. About ambition.
But maybe this is enough:
I am proud of the woman I am becoming.
And if this is what 31 looked like — I can’t wait to see what 32 builds.
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