I almost left.
The event was meant to start at 8 am. I was there. On time. Ready.
But there was no sound, no projector, no venue in sight that felt settled. Kibera. Then Karen. Then Ngong Road. Plans changed, then changed again. I waited. Waited some more. And for a second, I asked myself, why am I even here?
Then I remembered.
Because I believe in the fire of young people even when everything around them seems built to put it out.
These weren’t lazy kids. These were young people fighting the system with empty pockets and full hearts. They had no sponsors. No budget. Just belief. They wanted to host an event themed Empowering the Future: Technology, Education and Entrepreneurship.
And they called me.
They had nothing to offer. But I saw their zeal and said yes. No invoice. No ego. Just presence.
By midday, yes, midday, things finally came together. The tent filled up. Some had left, frustrated by the wait. But most stayed. And that’s what moved me.
They didn’t stay because of me. They stayed because something in them was thirsty.
Thirsty for answers. Thirsty for clarity. For tools. For a different story than the one poverty keeps recycling.
I stood in front of them, no fancy slides, just raw truth. Talked about tech. Talked about building something from nothing. Talked about the cost of excuses. The power of self-teaching. The value of digital skills in a world that doesn’t care where you come from, only what you can do.
I saw heads nod. Eyes widen. Some were hearing these things for the first time.
After the talk, they lined up to speak with me. Not for photos. For advice. For direction. One asked me how to start a YouTube channel with just a phone. Another wanted to design flyers for local businesses but didn’t know how to price. One girl whispered, “I’ve always wanted to be a techie, but I thought tech was for the rich.”
That one hurt. Because it’s true. Tech still feels like a rich man’s game. And that’s the gap we’re fighting.
Kibera, Ngong Road, Kawangware and every other overlooked town or village are places full of potential. What they lack isn’t intelligence. It’s access. Support. Trust.
Three venue changes. Hours of delay. Still, they showed up. You can’t teach that kind of hunger.
This wasn’t a perfect event. Far from it. But it was real. The organizer approached me and said, “I have never seen such a Christian. You live the word. I want you to be my mentor!”
These young people deserve spaces to try. To fail. To plan something chaotic and still be taken seriously. They deserve better than being written off just because they’re not polished.
The Digital Moran stands with this kind of youth. The ones who keep going even when the world doesn’t clap.
They need laptops. Internet. Safe places to think and create. Mentors who don’t charge them for every sentence.
What they don’t need is pity. They need a chance. And if we don’t give it to them who will?
Let’s stop talking about transformation and actually fund it. This wasn’t just an event. It was a glimpse of what Kenya could become if we stopped waiting for perfect and started showing up for the raw and real.
I showed up. They showed up. Now it’s your move.
