By WAMACHE ANDREW 

As a child, I believed that every family carries the same tension in the air. Unspoken and unpredictable, I thought raised voices were normal and slamming of doors was part of everyday life.

 I grew up believing that conflict was a threat to my existence rather than a part of communication. To this day, edged memories still haunt me. There are invisible bruises that I could only feel by myself. I assumed my father's temper was a thunderstorm that I must hide from. 

It felt painful to see my mother's tears. It felt like it was heartbreak. I felt that I beared the responsibility to help her but she clinged on to her marriage. At that particular moment, there was nothing i could do rather to face my father's rage.

 When the day transformed it was as if nothing had happened. This  showed the normalization of fear in our homestead. The violence became part of life and I became an expert in reading the room. There was hardly any peaceful days in the  homestead .

I learned a lot how my mother desperately tried  to hold on to the marriage. I did not understand if it was love or desperation. As I grew up,  I learned it happens in many homes. It is only hidden and not wanted to be spoken about. My home became vigilante tensioned by only the sound of the door.

Time elapsed, the inevitable decision faced by my mother was decided. She left. To heal. Slowly, she realized that love should not hurt. She chose voice over silence. I was happy for her because all this time I wanted to stand for her but I couldn't. I was glad she redefined her strength.

I remember the violence was not only physical. It came in form of harsh words, control, emotional manipulation and it it pained my heart. I sympathized with my mother on how unbearable it was to cope with it. For me, school was my only refuge yet even there I carried home with me. I struggled with poor concentration and I felt envy to students who spoke highly of their parents.

As I grew older, I realized violence is not love. Today I speak not just as a survivor but a someone who understands the lasting impact of Gender Based Violence.Telling my story is part of the healing process but it is not easy to let go but today. 

The Silence of my own home is different silence of harmony. Peace under safe space. Perhaps sharing this story  can help those in similar situations reclaim their voice and not suffer in silence.

In conclusion, I remind you that everybody has a voice. Gender based violence has changed in the modern world. Both men and women are abused and suffer. Say no to Gender Based Violence before it is too late.

The Writer is a Second Year BA Journalism and Mass Communication Student at Chuka University 

By DAMACKLINE ONDICHO

Imagine growing up in a family where every ordinary day carries the possibility of an emergency. Where a simple walk to work, a climb up a tree or a drive down the road can suddenly turn into a hospital visit. For my family, that has been our reality for years.

My father has lived with epilepsy for long. It is a condition that has shaped not only his life, but also the lives of everyone around him. Epilepsy does not simply bring epileptic attacks, it brings fear, uncertainty and at times deep emotional pain. For us, it has meant hospital corridors, sleepless nights and learning responsibility earlier than most children do.

My father is a mechanic, owning a small spare parts store and he is the sole breadwinner of our family. He is a husband and a father of three , myself and my two younger sisters. I am now at university, my second sister is in Form Three, and the youngest is in Grade Nine. But our journey to this point has not been easy.

There were times when my father would be involved in accidents caused by sudden epileptic attacks. Often, he would not even remember what had happened. When he got injured, he would be admitted to hospital and my mother would have to stay by his side. That left us at home alone, learning to cook, clean and look after one another in ways children are rarely prepared for.

I still remember the August holiday of 2023. My father climbed a tree to pick avocados. Moments later, he fell. He broke his leg so badly that doctors had to insert a metal plate during surgery. For weeks, our mother remained in hospital with him. At home, we tried to be brave. But spending two weeks without seeing either parent is not something any child easily forgets.

Epilepsy does not only attack the body, it also attacks the spirit. My father has been a patient in many hospitals not because the disease worsened, but because of injuries sustained during epileptic attacks. Falling anywhere, anytime, without warning, is a heavy burden to carry.

There were moments when he would lose hope and question his own worth. “What is the importance of living when you live with pain every day?” he once asked. After going for a casual job and failing to reach his destination because he collapsed on the way, he began to doubt himself even more. At times he would ask, “How can I be a useful and hardworking person like this?”

Even when we tried to comfort him, the frustration lingered. After his surgery, he began taking phenobarbital to control the epileptic attacks. The medication helped, but recovery was slow. Staying at home for months, unable to work, made him short-tempered and withdrawn. It was difficult for him to accept that his body could no longer function the way it once had.

Six months later, he started walking again slowly, with a limp, using crutches. But he was smiling. It was not the walk of a defeated man. It was the walk of someone who had survived.

Gradually, life began to stabilize. My father learned to accept himself as a person living with epilepsy. He became more careful and more disciplined with his medication. Though the disease remains unpredictable, he has developed resilience. And as a family, so have we.

Growing up in such circumstances has taught me lessons no textbook could ever provide. I have learned responsibility, patience and empathy. I have learned that strength is not measured by physical ability alone, but by the courage to continue despite limitations.

Epilepsy is often misunderstood in our communities. Some see it as a curse or something to fear. But it is a medical condition that requires understanding, proper treatment and emotional support. Families living with it need encouragement, not discrimination.

Today, as a university student, I carry my father’s story with pride. His journey has shaped my determination to succeed. Where I am today is not just for me , it is for the man who kept standing up after every fall.

Living with epilepsy in the family means living with uncertainty. But it also means living with courage. Sometimes courage is simply choosing to rise again, even when you know you might fall.

The Writer is a Second Year BA Journalism and Mass Communication Student at Chuka University 

By VICTORIA JUMA 

As the cost of living rises and financial support becomes increasingly uncertain, many Kenyan university students are turning to the thriving second-hand clothing trade to sustain themselves while pursuing their education.

At dawn in Nairobi’s bustling Gikomba Market, sellers navigate the narrow pathways stacked with tightly wrapped bales of second-hand clothes. The air fills with the sounds of bargaining, rustling fabrics and the occasional cheer when someone discovers a fashionable gem hidden among the piles.

Among the seasoned traders are an unexpected group of entrepreneurs and university students. In a few hours, many of them will be seated in lecture halls attending classes. But before lectures begin, they are already working, selecting jackets, jeans and shirts they hope to resell later in the day to fellow students on campus.

Across universities in Kenya, selling mitumba imported second-hand clothing has quietly become one of the most common side hustles among students trying to keep up with the rising cost of living.

Turning Necessity into Opportunity

University life often comes with financial pressure. Rent, food, transport and learning materials can quickly stretch students' budgets beyond their limits.

Even for students who receive financial support from parents or government loans, delays or limited funding often leave them searching for additional sources of income.

According to research by the global survey firm GeoPoll, about 71% of Kenyan youth engage in side hustles to supplement their income, highlighting a growing culture of entrepreneurship among young people aged between 18 and 35.

Within universities, this trend has become increasingly visible. Students are running small businesses ranging from photography and baking to online freelancing. Yet mitumba trading stands out because of its accessibility.

With just a few thousand shillings, a student can buy a small batch of clothes and sell them at a profit. For many young traders, identifying fashionable pieces such as oversized jackets, vintage denim and branded sportswear has become part of the business.

“Students want to look stylish but most cannot afford clothes from high-end fashion stores,” says Brian Mwangi, a third-year university student who sells thrifted jackets and hoodies on campus. “Mitumba allows them to dress stylishly without spending too much.”

Global conversations about sustainable fashion have also contributed to the popularity of thrift clothing, making second-hand outfits not only affordable but also socially acceptable among young consumers.

A Student’s Hustle Story

For Faith Mutua, a second-year communication student, selling mitumba began as a simple way to solve a pressing problem that is rent.

“I realised the money I was getting from home could not cover all the expenses,” Mutua says. “After paying rent and buying food, there was almost nothing left.”

Mutua started small, buying a few trendy ladies tops and dresses from  the Chuka local  market using KSh2,000 she had saved. She washed and ironed them before posting photos on her WhatsApp status. Within a few days, most of the clothes were sold.

Encouraged by the demand, she later began sourcing more fashionable pieces from Nairobi’s Gikomba Market, one of the country’s largest hubs for second-hand clothing.

Today, she sells jackets, vintage jeans and hoodies to fellow students, sometimes making enough profit to cover all her expenses. “Balancing business and school is not always easy,” she says. “But the hustle helps me avoid constantly asking my parents for money.”

Beyond the financial benefits, Mutua says the experience has also taught her practical skills such as budgeting, marketing and customer relations, lessons she believes will remain valuable long after graduation.

Balancing Books and Business

Despite its advantages, running a small business while pursuing a university degree is challenging. Student traders often divide their time between attending lectures, sourcing new stock and marketing their products.

A typical day might involve morning classes, afternoon trips to markets and evening hours spent advertising clothes online or delivering orders around campus. The balancing act becomes even more challenging during exam periods when academic responsibilities increase.Yet many students say the hustle is worth the effort.

Apart from generating income, running a small business equips them with practical skills such as negotiation, budgeting and time management. “These are things you don’t learn in class,” says Mwangi. “But they help you understand how business really works.”

The popularity of mitumba trading among students also reflects the broader importance of the second-hand clothing industry in Kenya. According to research by the Institute of Economic Affairs, the sector supports more than two million livelihoods in the country, making it one of the largest sources of employment in the informal economy.

At the same time, youth unemployment remains a major challenge. Data from the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics shows that young people aged between 18 and 34 make up a significant share of the country’s unemployed population, pushing many to explore entrepreneurial paths.

As evening settles over university campuses, a few students remain outside hostels arranging thrifted jackets and dresses neatly on small racks, hoping to make one more sale before the day ends. Their stalls may be modest, but the determination behind them is unmistakable.

Moving between lecture halls during the day and mitumba racks in the evening, these students represent a generation navigating economic uncertainty with creativity and resilience proving that sometimes the path to opportunity begins with something as simple as a second-hand shirt.

The Writer is a Second Year BA Journalism and Mass Communication,  Chuka University 

By STEPHEN OMONDI OCHIENG 

Second Year BA Journalism and Mass Communication Student,  Chuka University 

The every day lives of Kenyans today has its fair share of stress, problems and tragedy yet in all this chaos, absurdly enough humour doesn't just provide entertainment, it comes as a survival tool; an anchor to reality if I may call it.

 Faced with so many stressful uncertainties such as the rising cost of living, unemployment, political tension and the pressure and responsibilities that adulthood presents in this digital age how does the average Kenyan cope? From the commonly known memes posted on statuses either on WhatsApp, Instagram or X to TikTok skits, reels and even sarcastic voice overs, a majority of the nation finds solace in this kind of humour. Despair and frustrations have been replaced by this unique type of humour. A simple doomscrolling on your TikTok or Instagram reels and suddenly someone seems less tense even able to crack a joke. 

The meme culture

Spontaneous, edgy and controversial yet the fastest form of humour embodied by witty images ,reaction images, funny captions ,edits and stickers flood social media. Joke take less time to spread than actual news in today's world .Controversial political decisions, or like the much recently witnessed floods in the Nairobi CBD later christened the SeaBD , Sink-apo instead of Singapore by citizens are turned from something negative to a strangely communal topic. Nationwide jokes and laughs are shared regardless of the situation one is in momentarily releasing the tension as an aftermath of the situation. 

Healing side of TikTok

 Kenyan creators work on perfecting the art of comedic commentary in platform such as TikTok where it's not new to come across short skits about campus lifestyles, being broke, toxic friendships and even campus expectations and reality. These videos gain traction and tend to have ten of thousands of likes sometimes even in the hundreds of thousands. Realism or satire when creating content about meals to survive on as a university student and other content bring out humour that despite it's painful appearance brings about relatability to it's intended audience. TikTokers such as Mluo, Mogambi and Crazy Kennar are the most widely known examples today, turning everyday frustrations into relatable and comedic content that shouts " that's literally my everyday life. . . " The comment section makes it feel less lonely knowing it's not just you out there.

 Tragedy's humour

Satire has become a trigger response for controversies, scandals and national tragedies. This doesn't necessarily mean we don't care but it turns deep frustrations and emotional exhaustion into humour because self pity sometimes makes coping harder. To avoid being overwhelmed by difficult realities we turn to comedy. Instead of long debates or posts, a single meme response, sticker or joke can say all our opinions on heavy or emotional topics indirectly. Collective digital community coping. 

Humour is a shared cultural experience nowadays. A joke takes off, relatability brings in thousands of Kenyans each adding their own twists to the meme or video resulting into something much larger than individual comedy but collective therapy through reposts and anticipated comment section response. This type of humour though isn't just a Gen Z thing but it has been going on for generations now with the most nostalgic one being the XYZ show's run. It isn't uncommon to see media stations apply this humour on it content, The likes of NTV' s The Trend hosted by Amina Abdi is another well known example.

 The balance between reality and humour

 It is a given that humour can't solve problems and others may argue that turning everything into a joke can distract from serious conversations about mental health, unemployment or bad governance. But for many young Kenyans, humour isn't about ignoring problems but rather surviving them. A meme cannot fix the situation but it may make a stressful day feel a little lighter. 

The Oxford dictionary names this type of situation Gallows humour referencing the act of someone joking while standing at the gallows-once used for public hangings the worst possible moment for humour. The dictionary describes this type of dark humour as humour that treats serious, frightening or painful situations in a joking or satirical manner. If anything, this should be seen that resilience isn't always serious, dramatic or straightforward. Sometimes it is masked in sarcastic tweets, TikTok skits or just a perfectly timed meme. 

Behind this laughter is a generation coping with real challenges in their own way while not allowing our joy to be taken away. In a storm of problems, the Gen Z will still find a way to laugh. You don't need to scroll too long through Kenyan social media to see this clearly.