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Grief & Healing
When you have spent most of your young adult life largely being a spectator in burials and funeral preparations...and then suddenly death starts hitting home ever so often, you are comfronted with a new reality - learning grief companionship skills. What do you say to someone whose heart has been crushed into a thousand pieces. Is there anything that can make it feel better?
Grief & Healing
Memories
There are people who walk with us for so long that they become woven into our sense of self. For many, that person is a sibling - the one who witnessed our childhood, shared rooms, argued over small things, and grew alongside us through every season of life.
Grief & Healing
Sibling grief often sits in the background, quiet and unseen. Parents are at the centre of sympathy, the children and the spouse are comforted while brothers and sisters are expected to “be strong.”
Diaspora
For many Kenyans in the diaspora, loss back home comes with a double burden. Not only do you face the pain of losing someone you love, but you also carry the ache of distance. The phone call announcing the death feels unreal, and by the time you’ve processed it, you’re already scrambling for flight prices or checking livestream links.
When a loved one dies, most families in Kenya are thrown into a whirlwind of grief, cultural obligations, and practical decisions. Suddenly, relatives are asking: Where do we take the body? How do we get a casket? Who organizes the service? The pressure is heavy, especially when time is short.
Death is painful, but the lack of a succession plan makes it even harder. Families that should be leaning on each other for support often end up divided by disputes. By planning ahead, loved ones are spared the burden of conflict and allowed to focus on what truly matters, honoring the memory of the person they’ve lost.
Grief used to be confined to homes, places of worship, and gravesides. You mourned with neighbors, relatives, and close friends who showed up in person. But today, grief often spills into digital spaces: WhatsApp groups, Facebook timelines, and even TikTok tributes.
Grief doesn’t end with a funeral. For many families, the real journey begins in the weeks and months after, when people are searching for ways to hold on to memories.
For many families, funeral costs arrive quickly and unexpectedly, even when love and support are abundant.
A funeral committee helps a family turn many moving parts into a clear plan, share the workload, and keep money matters transparent. Done well, it preserves dignity, reduces stress, and lets the family focus on what matters: honouring a life.
Losing a loved one while living abroad is a layered pain. Beyond the grief itself, there’s the ache of distance — being unable to hug your mother, sit with cousins, or take part in the rituals that make loss feel shared. You’re left watching updates unfold through WhatsApp groups and phone calls, your mourning filtered through screens.
When COVID-19 arrived, it didn’t just disrupt our work, schools, and daily routines — it also disrupted how we say goodbye to those we love. Families who would have normally gathered in the hundreds for funerals were suddenly limited to small groups, socially distanced, or forced to follow proceedings on livestream. Communities that once found healing in closeness had to adapt to grief from afar.
When death strikes a family in Kenya, emotions run high and decisions pile up quickly. Suddenly, relatives find themselves dealing with dozens of calls, endless logistics, and mounting costs — all while trying to grieve. It’s overwhelming, especially if you’ve never been involved in planning a funeral before. One of the first surprises is just how many different service providers, or “vendors,” you’ll need to engage. From mortuary services to transport, catering to tents and chairs, funerals in Kenya have become complex events that require coordination. Knowing in advance who these vendors are and what they do can make a world of difference. This article breaks down the eight most common funeral vendors you’re likely to encounter, what they provide, and why they matter. The goal is simple: to help you feel less blindsided, more prepared, and better equipped to support your family during one of life’s hardest moments.
Faith, Culture & Traditions
In many Kenyan families, conversations about death are quickly brushed aside. “Don’t speak such things into existence,” a parent might say, or an elder may change the topic altogether. It feels safer to leave the unknown unspoken. Yet, when we avoid these conversations, we leave our families unprepared for the inevitable. The truth is, death is part of life. Pretending it won’t come doesn’t prevent it — it only increases the pain and confusion when it does. This article explores why we struggle to plan for death, how cultural and emotional barriers keep us silent, and why breaking that silence is one of the greatest acts of love we can offer our families.
Memories
Grief is rarely a straight line. In Kenya, as in many parts of the world, people experience loss in ways that are deeply personal but also shaped by our cultural, religious, and digital environments. Some losses are expected, others sudden. Some are widely acknowledged, while others are carried in silence. Yet today, grief doesn’t just live in our hearts, homes, or churches. It also shows up in our WhatsApp groups, on Instagram timelines, and in the quiet searches we make on Google late at night. Understanding the different types of grief — and how they manifest online and offline — helps us name our pain and find healthier ways to carry it. This article explores three often misunderstood forms of grief: anticipatory, complicated, and disenfranchised grief.
Memories
Losing someone you love can feel like the ground has shifted under your feet. In the shock and swirl of phone calls, decisions, and emotions, it’s natural to wonder: “Is it too soon to create a memorial page?” You don’t have to get everything right on day one. A memorial page isn’t about perfection — it’s about beginning a gentle, shared space where love, stories, and practical updates can live.
Memories
Losing a loved one comes with many difficult decisions. One of the most significant is choosing how to lay them to rest. In Kenya, families often weigh between burial and cremation — a choice influenced by culture, religion, personal preference, and practical considerations. While both are legally recognized, they carry different expectations and experiences. Understanding these differences can help families make an informed and respectful choice.
Fundraising
In Kenya, when loss strikes, family and friends rally together. It’s one of the most comforting parts of our culture: no one mourns alone. Yet behind the warmth of support lies an uncomfortable reality — asking for help can feel like a burden. Many worry about being “too demanding,” about overburdening friends, or about appearing ungrateful. But the truth is this: asking for support during a funeral doesn’t have to create guilt or pressure. With the right approach, you can invite others to stand with you in love, not obligation. Here’s how to do it in a way that feels natural, respectful, and easier for everyone involved.
Memories
Digital memorials are a gentle and meaningful way to honor someone’s life. They provide a space for reflection, support, and ongoing connection. In times of grief, having a place where love and memories can live on brings comfort.
Memories
When a loved one passes, grief is often accompanied by complex decisions — one of the most sensitive being: who should take the lead in planning the funeral? In many families, this becomes a point of confusion or even quiet tension, especially when the immediate children and extended family members (like uncles and aunties) have different views.
Memories
Whether you choose to send flowers, make a donation, or both, the most important thing is that your gesture comes from the heart. During times of loss, small acts of kindness mean a great deal.
Memories
A practical and compassionate guide on how to support someone who’s grieving. This article explores thoughtful things to say, common phrases to avoid, and offers gentle reminders for being present during times of loss.
Memories
Tribute trees are trees planted in memory of someone who has passed away. These trees can be planted in a garden, a park, or through special tribute tree programs that help plant trees in forests or public spaces. Some families also add a small plaque or message next to the tree, making it a quiet place to visit and reflect.
Grief & Healing
…and you never reached out.
For the last 11 years of my adult life, I have been blessed with the fortune of self-dependence. I have earned a decent living from just one core skill - writing - and its associative forms; journalism, communications, research, marketing, etc. About 25 years ago, I met the person who taught me this precious skill, this April she passed on - and I never got to tell her how much she impacted my life.
If there is one big lie in life that goes unappreciated, it is the notion of a self-made so and so. That it is possible - and even desirable - for someone to achieve incredible feats, all on their own; without help, counsel or any semblance of external input. Simply pure individual genius.
The truth is success or any meaningful accomplishment in life can be traced back to many enablers; human, superhuman, environmental and often all the above in concert. But often, as success comes closer into sight, as the stars align and it’s time to shine, the enablers fade further and further from view.
This is a reality I have been reflecting on this year after being hit with the saddening news of the passing of one of the most consequential people in my life.
Let me tell you a few things about my English Teacher.
It is 2002 and my parents have made the considerable sacrifice of moving me from the local harambee school to a fledgling new boarding school in Meru. Nested between scenic tea farms, and as they say at the foot of Mt Kenya, it is cooooooold!
The school itself is an active experiment - church-owned with an actual church on site where we would learn some of the most fun dances, but it was the food that was quite the pain. Githeri day in, day out and one glorious day of Ugali - yes, that’s it. That was our diet!
What it lacked in structure, it massively made up for in top notch teachers. And Mrs Violet Nyamu was one of its crown jewels. She introduced us to a world of excellence - I just can’t find a better word to describe the standards she set for her pupils.
In the world of quasi-public schooling (not fully public, barely private boarding) at the dawn of the millennium, you couldn’t have done better than St Nicholas Boarding Primary School in Kithaku, Central Imenti. Aptly named after the protector and patron saint of youth, I would say we were very privileged to have dedicated nurturers who embodied this very calling.
We must all suffer one of two things: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret. These are not my words, but those of one of my other favourite teachers — Jim Rohn. But they could as well have been uttered by Mrs Nyamu, because, disciplined…we were.
I had the privilege of also having her as my class teacher for the four years between Standard Five and Eight, so we had quite the interaction. As my classmates at Standard 8 East - Class of 2005 will tell you, Mrs Nyamu played no favourites.
She was firm, fair, emphatic and unrelenting. From the grammar, to the dictation, the poetry, comprehension to composition and creative writing - being in Mrs Nyamu’s class was both painfully rigorous as it was rewarding.
You just had to do your homework - for the studious lot like myself, it was an adventure; for the unlucky others, it was a necessary evil. Either way, she was not leaving anyone behind.
I would imagine one of her favourite scriptures has got to be Proverbs 22:6 "Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it."
And how true is it today where many of my generation are seemingly irreparably broken - the pain of primary school discipline now pales in comparison to the dysfunction wrought by adult indiscipline.
Indeed, "It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men," a quote widely attributed to Frederick Douglass. And those of us who had the privilege of being nurtured by Mrs Nyamu can attest to her impact in our adult lives.
For all the demand for excellence and unrelenting discipline, few (if any) will ever hold a grudge against Mrs Nyamu.
The feedback to below par creative write-ups, grammar slip-ups, mother-tongue-influenced pronunciation atrocities, and challenges to pupils punching below their weight was delivered with motherly care and understanding.
The praise for high performers and outstanding characters was measured, guarded against encouraging unhealthy competition as was the admonishment for tardy, unserious jokers as she referred to the distracted.
And perhaps my favourite thing about Mrs Nyamu’s classes was just how fun they were. I remembered sing-song interludes to grammar classes, one in particular still rings in my head - Ogolla has started cooking his rice…and now he’s ready to eat! I am not sure if many remember this one, it was in one of those GoK-Approved primary English textbooks.
My most favourite memory of how dynamic her classes were was this poetry book she’d bring along to some of her classes with just the best poems of the time. It was titled Soulful Voices and I think I remember reading on the cover that it was a collection of poems written by Kenyans students/pupils.
One of the poems that still rings in my mind and especially sprung back to my mind on the fateful day that I learned of her passing - and that our Class 8 East was probably known for reciting - was an ode to the intellectual exploration that Mrs Nyamu was always inviting us to; titled… actually, I don’t remember the title.
Let me write down some of the lines I remember:
Let me be me,
And I will let you be you,
Why can’t we just be free?
…
…
And it goes on and on beautifully about the freedom of being authentically you - well, not in the permissive kind of way that is prevalent today - but true co-existence and the explosion of creativity that makes life wonderful.
If you are reading this and you know where I can get a copy of this book Soulful Voices, or know the words of the full poem, let us know.
My dearest Mrs Nyamu, you taught me well…and just this language of English that the Brits imposed on us, you helped us master it, even with the heavy Meru tongue, we sang poems in the white man’s language.
And the writing, the compositions, the loving feedback you gave…I fell in love with writing, with imagination, creating vivid imagery with words, peppering with humour, sandwiching poignant messages for those who care to engage, developing personas, encapsulating emotions, hitting hard when you need to, reimagining the world, presenting the hard truths, articulating what nobody dares to say, getting lost in the beauty of expression, writing in enthusiasm, shouldering the burden of idealism, preserving memories, doing everything that language allows…finding a calling, doing it for business, doing it for love, for loved ones, for country, for community, for free, for the fun of it….
How sad am I that I never got to share with you what your teaching did for me. It built for me a career I love and enjoy so so much. It opened doors that the little 10-year-old me battling the biting cold, bouts of boyhood bullying, punishing Githeri diet and terrible homesickness could never have imagined.
I kept saying, one day I will come visit you at your home bearing gifts. I would narrate to you how English is the only subject I scored a clean A in KCSE and found my way to journalism school. I would show you my blog and we would reminisce over my dreamy writings in my composition books - a copy of which the school kept for other pupils to learn from.
And how I got a scholarship to the best communications school in London. Yes, London, to the home of the native English speakers. And graduated among the top in my MSc Class. How my dissertation was published as part of the 2018 LSE working paper series. And how I have become an entrepreneur. In many ways, the mastery of self-expression you so passionately taught us has powered my life.
A few years ago I had a chance to at least say hello. I was going to a family event and by chance lost my way and took the longer route that involved driving past your home. For a moment, I thought of just stopping and taking a minute to say hi. But no, I thought I needed to plan a trip specifically for that. Plus, I was running late. How I wish I had stopped!
I overheard that you were unwell…I made mental notes to reach out. I needed to find your number - many years went by and now you are gone to be with the Lord. I am so sorry…I should have done better.
One of my other favourite teachers says “Have something good to say…and say it well”. You did teach me how to say it well; of course in the right grammar, haha, the right tone, with the right emotion, with good diction and with love and all the beautiful devices that language affords us.
Part of saying it right, Jim Rohn teaches me, is actually not forgetting to say it!
Go well, my teacher.
