The weight of expectations.



He stared at his phone, dreading what he already knew was coming. Another message from home. Another demand disguised as a request.


"Son, we need KSh 15,000 for your sister’s school fees. Send it by Friday."


No greeting. No asking how he was doing. Just an expectation.


At first, he didn’t mind. Growing up, he had watched his parents struggle to put food on the table, to pay school fees, to make ends meet. He had promised himself that once he made it, he would take care of them. And when he got his first job, he did—happily. But then, the requests kept coming. Every month. Every payday. It was never enough.


At 27, he had a stable job, yet he felt trapped. His friends were saving for their first homes, investing in businesses, and traveling. Meanwhile, his salary barely lasted beyond the first week of the month.


One evening, he met an old friend at a café in Nairobi. They hadn’t seen each other in years, but the moment they sat down, his friend noticed the exhaustion on his face.


"You okay?"


He sighed. "It’s just... black tax. Every month, I send money home. And if I ever say I don’t have enough, I’m made to feel guilty. Like I’ve abandoned them."


His friend nodded. "I get it. But let me ask you—if you lost your job today, how long would you survive?"


The question hit hard. He had never thought about it. The truth was, he had no savings. No investments. Nothing to show for the years he had worked.


"Helping family is good," his friend continued, "but it should never leave you empty. You have to set boundaries, or you’ll never break free."


That night, he couldn’t sleep. He thought about his dreams, the life he wanted but couldn’t afford because of obligations that were never meant to be his alone. He thought about his siblings—was he helping them, or just making them dependent?


The next morning, he made a decision. He called home.


"I’ll always support when I can," he said firmly, "but I can’t do it all anymore. I have my own responsibilities too."


The silence on the other end was heavy. Then came the disappointment. "So you’re abandoning your family?"


His heart ached, but he stood his ground. "No, but I refuse to abandon myself."


For the first time in years, he felt light. Free. He had finally chosen himself—not out of selfishness, but out of the understanding that real success means lifting others only when it doesn’t pull you down.



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