Keeping Kenya was born from the truth that saved my life:
It’s not about the fall. It’s about the stand. Even if you’re shaking. Even if you’re rebuilding from rubble. Even if you’re doing it alone.
For years, I lived through storms most people never speak of—molestation, rape, domestic violence, suicide attempts, unimaginable loss, and moments where breathing itself felt like a battle. These weren’t chapters I wanted; they were chapters I survived.
But survival wasn’t the end of my story.
Reclaiming myself was just the beginning of WHO I AM.
I lost pieces of myself long before I learned how to claim them.
I learned silence before I learned strength.
I learned pain before I learned purpose.
But life has a way of breaking you open until you face yourself.
Through years of trauma, rebuilding, disability, loss, motherhood, spiritual reawakening, and choosing myself again and again — I realized something powerful:
I was the storm, and I was the calm before, during, and after it.
I was the brokenness, and I AM The Rebuild.
I was the whisper, and now I AM The Voice.
Keeping Kenya is the legacy of that voice.
A voice that refuses to shrink.
A voice that refuses to be kept silent ever again.




