Insight of a Kenyan Girl

I used to boast about having a high IQ, bragging to my friends that I was destined for something great. But now, I’m not so sure that was ever true. Life, in all its unpredictability, has thrown me into a space of uncertainty, and I feel more lost than ever. The years keep passing, and with each one, I feel as though I’ve accomplished little. The weight of failure presses down on me, and the confidence and self-esteem I once had have slowly been chipped away.

Society demands so much—success, achievements, purpose. But here I am, stuck in the middle, with no clear direction. Friends look at me with expectations, waiting to see what I’ve made of myself. Enemies wait, too, eager to see me stumble. I can feel the pressure building, and with it comes the crushing realization that I am failing, at least by the standards the world sets.

Nobody sets out to fail in life. Yet here I stand, watching time slip by, unsure of what the future holds. There’s no excitement anymore, no spark in my step. It’s like drowning—feeling the suffocating weight of everything—but still somehow managing to take a breath. Everyone around me is too kind, too friendly, but I can’t trust them. I’ve built walls, and the truth is, I’m too afraid to tear them down.

I keep searching for something—a purpose, a way forward—but it always feels just out of reach. They say if you work hard enough, you can achieve anything. But how do you work hard when you don’t even know what you’re good at? How do you give your best when it feels like nothing you do ever matters?

It’s as if I’ve been fighting a war, only to realize that the battle was with myself. I long for success, for a good life, but I don’t know how to make that happen. It’s tiring to carry this burden alone, with no one to lean on. The weight of it all feels suffocating. The hardest part is that I want to blame someone for this. I want to point a finger, to say, “This is because of you.” But the truth is, there’s no one to blame but myself. I’m the one who failed, and not understanding where I went wrong only deepens the darkness threatening to swallow me whole.

Everyone talks about their struggles, about the battles they’ve fought and won. Yet, I can’t even be sure if mine are real. Time slips by and things continue to fall apart, while all I can taste is bitterness.

What I want, more than anything, is to surround myself with good people, people who truly care. I want a path to follow, a life I can build with my own hands. I want a good bottle of wine to celebrate moments of peace, moments where the world feels manageable. I want health and happiness—for myself, for my family—though it often feels like the one I once prayed to has turned a deaf ear. I still believe, of course; He never makes mistakes, never acts late. But I can’t help but wonder: When will it be my turn?

For now, all I can feel is sadness, a sadness that is slowly being overtaken by anger, though I can’t even pinpoint why. Should I just accept whatever life throws at me, even if it feels like scraps and endless pain? My only wish is to live without regrets, but every day feels like a reminder of everything I could have done differently. Sometimes, it feels like a curse has been placed on me, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake it off.

Am I too weak to find happiness? Has the world corrupted me so completely that I no longer know who I am? What happened to the happiness I once knew? I can’t seem to find the person I once was—he feels lost to me, like a forgotten dream. Trying to rediscover myself is not as simple as I thought. If only there was someone to show me the way, someone who could guide me out of this haze.

Peace feels impossible to find, like a fleeting dream just beyond reach. I long for even a moment of calm amidst the chaos, but the universe seems to have other plans. Perhaps I will never have the tales of triumph I once dreamed of telling. I’m not incapable; I simply cannot seem to gather the strength to overcome these obstacles.

So, for now, I’ll keep listening to the world, searching for any hint of direction. I admit it: I am lost. And the light at the end of the tunnel seems too far away to see. My dreams, once vivid, now feel like distant memories, slipping through my fingers. Where have they gone?