“How is paraplegia taking you?” That’s what I asked my fellow paraplegic, Nawa. “It sucks big time,” he said. And I laughed. Then I asked, “Can we bitch about it a little?” Because sometimes, bitching helps. Complaining helps. Saying it out loud helps. And so we bitched — about bodies Read more…
Today marks exactly nine years since I graduated. Nine years since I stood there in that gown, smiling, knowing that I had life figured out. I really thought I did. I had a neat timeline in my head, the kind you don’t even question because everyone around you seems to Read more…
Before surgery, I was terrified. The kind of fear that eats at you in silence. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if this was the end of my life as I knew it. Would I ever walk again? Would my legs carry me out of that hospital bed? Read more…
A few weeks ago, I found myself at Kasarani Indoor Arena, about to watch the Kenya Wheelchair Basketball team in action. I didn’t really know what to expect. Part of me thought it would be slow or quiet. Oh, how wrong I was. I’ve been a wheelchair user for years. Read more…
They told me to be quiet about my disability.That if I didn’t speak it, maybe it wouldn’t be real.That talking about it would make it worse, like acknowledgment was a curse.That the more I embraced it, the less likely I’d ever walk again.So I stayed quiet. At first. I silenced Read more…
What happens when the place you go to seek help is the very place that shuts you out? How? Well, let me tell you a story about the most inaccessible office I have been to and how that inaccessibility made me feel. Over the weekend, I went to apply for Read more…
Two years ago, I was stuck.Stuck in fear.Stuck in the belief that I would never leave my parents’ house.That I would forever be dependent, that independence — whatever that even meant — just wasn’t for people like me. But life has a funny way of shifting. I moved out. That’s Read more…
Mental health isn’t always a visible battle—but last weekend, mine screamed in silence. I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I wanted the curtains drawn — all super dark, no lights, no nothing. I wanted to lie in silence and let the stillness Read more…
There’s something dangerous about desperation — a silent vulnerability that opens doors we’d normally keep shut. It makes us reach, grasp, and cling to promises we might otherwise question. And when you live with a disability in a society that glorifies walking, standing, and “looking able,” that desperation can be Read more…
Some conversations stay with you — long after the call ends, long after the words have settled. Not because they were loud or dramatic — but because they were true. Because for a moment, you sat across someone who didn’t just talk about inclusion — they championed for it. Mine with Read more…