Grace Kago: I am Learning To Stop And Accept Thing As They Are
My name is Grace Kago. I grew up in North America. So when I think of America, I think of home. But Nairobi is also home. And over time, I have realized home is not geography-it is the people around you.
I was born in Nairobi, and what I remember most is the voices of my aunts, uncles, and grandparents. When my family moved away, those voices became distant-but never left me. Even now, whenever I hear them, it is like opening a door into a room I have not visited in years.
Lately I have been asking myself: What is Kenyan culture, really?
Is it the joy of children chasing each other barefoot in red dust? Is it the taste of githeri shared straight from one sufuria? Is it the stories we tell ourselves about suffering and survival? Or is it the parts of us that flourish, that grow, that keep evolving? I wonder sometimes if what we call culture is just what has been filtered through our traumas and what it would look like if we chose to hold onto the parts that give us life.”
I have a PhD in Cell and Molecular Biology. I run a team that teaches about biological cells in Kikuyu. We explain microbes and disease in our mother tongue. And every time, I see how powerful it is when modern knowledge sits beside traditional wisdom. I even imagine what my great-grandparents would say if they could see what we know now: bacteria, germ theory, even electric cars. I think they would be fascinated. Culture, like a child, is supposed to grow and evolve. Not stay frozen in time.
My first relationship taught me a truth our culture does not always teach: honesty matters more than blind subservience. If you are not true to yourself, you end up with relationships built on duty instead of reciprocity.
If I could tell my younger self anything, it would be this: hurt and grief are not things you just “grin and bear.” They are things you walk alongside, with tools and honesty. And I would remind her that many religious communities confuse spiritual bypassing with healing, when in reality, ignoring your pain only deepens it.
These days, my values guide me:
Intention-taking agency to shape outcomes.
Integrity-acting with a clear compass, even in difficulty.
Adaptability-because life throws curveballs, and pivoting well is survival.
But I still carry rocks. The heaviest one is always optimizing for better. Always moving, always reaching. The danger is that if I never pause, I cannot see clearly where I am headed. Lately, I am learning to stop, to accept things as they are, and to plan more accurately before I take the next step.
Because life is not only about forward motion. Sometimes, it is about being still long enough to hear the voices in the next room.
May the day break!
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