Beyond Limits

Today, as I sat among the formerly imprisoned women at Narok, I found myself not just observing — but remembering. I sat. I observed. I asked questions. I facilitated. I inspired. But deep within, something was stirring — a quiet awakening. I felt the weight of my own journey pressing gently on my chest. I saw myself in 2015, fresh out of prison, full of anger and unanswered questions. I remembered what it felt like to sit across from someone who had walked a similar path and made it — how that moment had sparked something in me. And today, I became that someone for them. This self-awareness workshop was never just about a session plan or activities. It was about mirrors — about helping women look inward and see beyond the scars, beyond the silence, beyond the shame. It was about asking, “Who am I beneath the weight of my past? Who do I get to become now?” We shared reflections that were raw and deeply personal. We wrote words that hadn’t yet been spoken aloud. We laughed in between th...

There’s a kind of healing that doesn’t make headlines — but it transforms you deeply.   In this post, I share what healing has looked like in my own life when God is the one doing the mending.   It’s quiet. It’s holy. And it’s enough. What Healing Looks Like When God Is In It There’s a kind of healing that doesn’t come with fireworks.   No dramatic turning point.   No moment where everything suddenly makes sense. It comes quietly.   Softly.   In moments that seem ordinary… but are filled with Heaven’s fingerprints. It looks like waking up and realizing that your heart doesn’t ache in the same way it used to.   It looks like not crying over that name anymore.   It looks like peace… where chaos once lived rent-free. God’s healing doesn’t always announce itself.   Sometimes, it tiptoes in while you’re pouring a cup of tea or watching the sun rise behind Tigoni’s misty hills.   Sometimes it shows up in laughter that catches you off guard — o...

If you’re a woman caught up in Kenya’s criminal justice system, I’ve walked that road. I know the fear, the confusion, the silence that follows release. This guide isn’t theory. It’s my truth—from arrest, to prison, to freedom. Here’s what I learned, and what every woman should know about surviving the system and rebuilding life afterward. 1. When You’re Arrested in Kenya Don’t panic. Ask questions. If police arrest you, don’t resist. Ask what you’re being charged with. It’s your right to know. Know your basic rights: You must be taken to court within 24 hours (excluding weekends/holidays). You have the right to remain silent. You can ask for a lawyer. If you can’t afford one, request legal aid. Tip: If possible, inform someone you trust where you’re being taken. Keep track of names, badge numbers, and location. 2. Inside Police Custody Don’t sign anything under pressure.   Police may push you to sign a statement. Don’t do it unless you fully understand what’s written and you...

I sat on my bed—it was day three, and I hadn’t slept at all. The exhaustion was overwhelming, but my mind refused to rest. Desperate, I confided in my pastor’s wife about my sleepless nights. Concerned, she took me to find some sleeping medication.   Despite all I had accomplished, I was battling intense panic attacks. I had completed a three-month African Leadership Training in South Africa, received an opportunity to attend a Coaching Bootcamp in London, and had just been accepted into the Women in Leadership Program at St. Xavier University COADY Institute in Canada. Though COVID-19 shifted it to online learning, it was still a significant milestone.   Yet, in the midst of these achievements, I was unraveling. The anxiety, the panic, the sleepless nights—I didn’t understand what was happening to me. Only later did I realise that I was dealing with PTSD, a silent weight carried by many who have experienced imprisonment.  The Hidden Impact of Imprisonment. The effects of...

I remember vividly that Friday morning in May 2015. My aunt and cousin came to pick me up from Kiambu Law Courts—I had just been released. The moment was surreal. The weight of  the last six months behind bars and about two years navigating the court system lifted as I stepped outside, breathing in the fresh air. It felt like the world had shifted, and I whispered to my cousin, " This is like a dream ." She turned to me and said, " It’s not a dream, it’s real. You are free."   I went home, and the rest, as they say, is history. But what no one tells you is that freedom is not just about walking out of those prison gates—it’s about what happens next. Reintegration is one of the hardest things anyone can face after imprisonment. The world moves on, people change, and if you don’t have the right support, it’s easy to feel lost. But reintegration is possible. It’s a journey, not a destination, and with the right steps, you can rebuild your life.   Here are six  things ...

Before colonial rule, African societies had well-established and effective systems for addressing social issues, including crime and mental health challenges. These systems were deeply rooted in principles of restorative justice, emphasizing reconciliation, restitution, and the reintegration of offenders into the community, rather than punitive measures that alienated individuals. In Kenya, different ethnic communities had sophisticated mechanisms for resolving disputes and maintaining social harmony. Among the Agikuyu, disputes were handled by a council of elders known as the Kiama. In cases of serious offenses, such as murder, the offender’s family was required to pay restitution (murume) to the victim’s family, often in livestock or other valuables. This ensured justice while preserving relationships. Cleansing rituals were also performed to restore peace and reintegrate the offender into the community. The Luo community employed a similar system, where elders mediated conflicts, ...