BRAVIN YURI

When you become accustomed to noticing the slightest shifts in someone’s behaviour, tone, posture, facial expressions, and energy, very little remains hidden. You start seeing patterns before they become obvious. Sometimes, you can almost predict what someone will do next. That is the power, and sometimes the burden, of pattern recognition. One thing I consciously do in almost every conversation is observe body language. People can control their words, rehearse their stories, and construct convincing lies, but the body often betrays what the mouth is trying to conceal. A change in posture. A restless hand. Avoided eye contact. A sudden shift in tone. A forced smile. The distance someone creates. The way they react to a particular subject. These seemingly insignificant details can reveal discomfort, fear, insecurity, intention, or conflict long before someone admits it. The body does not always tell the whole truth, but it often tells you when the story you are hearing is incomplete. So when you meet people, don't just listen to what they say. Observe what they do while saying it. People communicate far more than they realize.

When I hear someone say, “Chase money, not six-packs,” I hear more than a preference. I hear a philosophy of life, and often, a rather impoverished one. A six-pack is not the objective. It is a visible consequence of discipline, physical fitness and relatively low body fat. It is one of the many signals that someone has chosen to take care of their body. And that matters because health is wealth. There is little value in accumulating money you are too sick to enjoy. Many people have spent years chasing wealth only to spend their fortunes trying to buy back the health they neglected while making it. The false dichotomy between money and fitness is intellectually lazy. You can build wealth and build your body. You can pursue financial freedom while maintaining physical discipline. In fact, the same qualities that build a strong body, consistency, delayed gratification, discipline and self-control, are often the very qualities required to build anything meaningful in life. What is more revealing is the mentality behind the statement. Some people don't merely reject fitness; they need to ridicule it to rationalise their own lack of discipline. They turn physical neglect into a philosophy and then pretend it is wisdom. And there is often another contradiction hiding underneath it: “Don't chase six-packs, chase money.” For what? Status? Validation? Women? Social approval? If you are going to condemn people for pursuing physical attractiveness while spending your entire life pursuing financial status for the same validation, the contradiction is obvious. Your priorities reveal your values. How you treat your body, your money, your relationships and your responsibilities tells me far more about your character than the motivational slogans you repeat. So no, I don't take “chase money, not six-packs” as profound wisdom. More often, it sounds like someone trying to intellectualise indiscipline. Build the body. Build the mind. Build the wealth. Build the character. You don't have to choose.

The more relationships become primarily driven by financial status, the more societies drift toward polygyny. For the record, polygamy is the umbrella term. Polygyny refers to one man with multiple wives, while polyandry refers to one woman with multiple husbands. When wealth becomes the dominant criterion for mate selection, a relatively small number of affluent men can attract a disproportionate share of potential mates, while many men with fewer resources struggle to form relationships. That creates an increasingly unequal dating and marriage market. When wealth becomes the ticket to intimacy, a handful of wealthy men accumulate more and more mates, while an increasing number of ordinary men are shut out of the relationship market. Society pretends this has no consequences but it does. The men at the top accumulate more mates. The men at the bottom accumulate more frustration. If young men are taught that access to love, sex, and family is bought rather than built, don't be surprised when some pursue wealth at any cost. Some will work harder. Others will cheat, steal, defraud, or embrace other destructive paths because they believe money is the only currency that matters. You can already see just what people are willing to do just to get the money. Are you surprised to see the rise in the number of sharp boys? And more? I am not. It is all in the patterns. Every society is shaped by the incentives it rewards. Kenya is not heading in that direction. Kenya is already living it.

We are heading into a future where a child might genuinely say, "When I grow up, I want to be an OnlyFans creator." That says something about where our values are shifting. For many young people today, the dream is no longer to become a doctor, engineer, teacher, or scientist. It is no longer about mastering a profession or building a lifelong career. It is about making money, and making it as fast as possible. This era glorifies instant wealth, viral fame and overnight success, and the process has become less important than the payout. The destination is all that matters. The journey? No, that does not. It's all about the end. Not the means. If this mindset continues, don't be surprised when institutions begin offering courses on how to maximise earnings from subscription platforms like OnlyFans. You know, what sounds absurd and probably delusional today could become normal tomorrow. The real question is not whether platforms like OnlyFans exist. It is why so many people now see them as a more attainable path to success than education, innovation, or skilled professions. That should concern all of us.

The High Court has declared key provisions of the Computer Misuse and Cybercrimes (Amendment) Act, 2025 unconstitutional, ruling that they violated constitutional rights to freedom of expression, media freedom and other fundamental freedoms. Justice Patricia Mande struck down Section 6(1)(j)(a), which had given the National Computer and Cybercrimes Coordination Committee powers to order internet service providers to block websites and online applications without prior court approval. The court also invalidated Section 27(1)(b), finding the provision criminalising certain online communications to be vague, overly broad and unconstitutional. The court ruled that some of the contested provisions violated constitutional protections, including freedom of expression, access to information and due process, while allowing other sections of the law to remain in force. However, the court upheld the legislative process, finding that Parliament met the constitutional requirements on public participation and that Senate approval was not required for the amendments. The judgment follows a petition by the Bloggers Association of Kenya (BAKE) challenging the legality of the amendments. The petitions therefore succeeded in part, marking a significant victory for digital rights and constitutional protections in Kenya.

A good father doesn't just give his child a life. He teaches them how to live it. He becomes the voice they hear when making difficult decisions, the strength they remember when life gets hard, and the example they carry long after he's gone. Today, I celebrate the fathers who showed up, sacrificed, protected, guided, and loved. Happy Father's Day to the men whose greatest legacy is not what they left behind, but who they raised.

Good morning, Thank you for the support on this so far. We have managed to get 10k. Any support is welcome. MPESA: 0707884567 (Peter) Anyone willing to support on a monthly basis as a form of giving back to society is also welcome. Since it is Men’s mental Health Month we are also creating awareness of the same and support on that is welcome. We are running a series of webinars. I will be testing the live tool here to begin some live streams within this space.

One of the most fascinating contradictions of modern Kenya is that we have a generation that spent nearly two decades in classrooms, graduated from colleges and universities, yet struggles to communicate fluently in either the official language or the national language. Many Kenyans cannot hold a conversation entirely in English from beginning to end without borrowing Kiswahili words. The same is true in reverse. We cannot sustain a conversation entirely in Kiswahili without reaching for English phrases to fill the gaps. We constantly switch between the two, not necessarily because we are being creative, but often because our vocabulary in each language is incomplete. An issue I squarely put on the lack of a reading culture. What is even more interesting is that sometimes neither English nor Kiswahili is enough. We pause, search for the right words, fail to find them, and then resort to our mother tongues. We say the phrase exactly as we mean it in our native language and trust that the listener will understand the feeling, interpret the context, translate it mentally into their own language, and somehow arrive at the intended meaning. Surprisingly, communication still happens. This raises an important question: what is the true purpose of language? If language exists primarily to transfer meaning from one mind to another, then perhaps we are succeeding. The message gets across. People understand each other. Society continues to function. In that sense, language has done its job. But there is another side to this conversation. I like to look at things from a different perspective. Language is not merely a tool for communication. It is also a tool for thought. The richer your vocabulary, the more precisely you can express ideas, emotions, arguments, and experiences. When language becomes limited, thought can become limited too. Sometimes we know exactly what we feel but cannot find the words to explain it. Sometimes we have an idea but lack the vocabulary to give it shape. What makes our situation unique is that many of us exist between languages. We are not fully operating in English. We are not fully operating in Kiswahili. We are often disconnected from our mother tongues. We live somewhere in the middle, borrowing from all three whenever necessary. Perhaps this is not entirely a weakness. It reflects the complexity of who we are as a people. We are multilingual, multicultural, and constantly adapting. Our conversations are a living blend of history, identity, education, and culture. Yet it should make us reflect on the outcomes of our education system. After years of formal education, should fluency in at least one language not be a reasonable expectation? Should we not be producing graduates who can articulate their thoughts clearly, confidently, and precisely in English, Kiswahili, or their native languages? The average Kenyan today speaks in a linguistic mosaic: a little English, a little Kiswahili, fragments of mother tongue, and plenty of context. Somehow, understanding emerges from the chaos. Maybe that is our greatest strength. Or maybe it is a symptom of something deeper that we have never fully addressed. Either way, it is a conversation worth having. I find myself asking so many questions but maybe one day we will find answers to some of these questions. As you were.

We need to rethink how we sell education to the younger generation. For decades, education was packaged as the surest path to a good job, a stable income, and a better life. Parents told their children to study hard so they could get employed. Teachers reinforced the same message. Governments built policies around it. Society measured success by how many graduates secured formal employment. But the reality has changed. Today, we have thousands of highly educated people holding diplomas, degrees, master's degrees, and even PhDs who are struggling to find work. Young people can see this reality with their own eyes. They see graduates at home. They see degree holders doing jobs unrelated to their qualifications. They see people spending years searching for employment with little success. As this becomes more common, the motivation to pursue higher education naturally begins to decline. A young person starts asking a simple question: "If education is supposed to get me a job, and educated people cannot find jobs, then why should I invest years of my life pursuing it?" This is not necessarily a failure of education itself. It is a failure of how education has been marketed and understood. The true purpose of education was never just employment. Education is supposed to expand the mind. It is supposed to expand people’s perception of the world. It is supposed to teach people how to think, not merely what to think. It should help individuals understand the world around them, solve problems, adapt to changing circumstances, and contribute meaningfully to society. Education should provide the tools needed to navigate life, create opportunities, and improve communities. Unfortunately, the education system has gradually reduced learning to a transaction: go to school, get good grades, obtain a certificate, and secure a job. The certificate became more important than the knowledge. Employment became more important than problem-solving. That model is now colliding with economic reality. The world does not simply need more job seekers. It needs problem solvers, innovators, creators, builders, and entrepreneurs. It needs people who can identify challenges in their communities and develop solutions that create value for others. It needs individuals who understand that education should not only prepare them to seek employment but also equip them to create employment. This does not mean everyone must become an entrepreneur. Rather, it means education should develop a mindset that sees opportunities where others see obstacles. It should teach financial literacy, critical thinking, innovation, leadership, communication, and practical problem-solving alongside academic knowledge. If education continues to be sold primarily as a ticket to formal employment, it will become increasingly difficult to convince young people of its value in an era of rising unemployment. The future of education lies in repackaging it as a tool for empowerment rather than merely a pathway to employment. Young people need to understand that education is not simply about earning a salary. It is about acquiring the knowledge, skills, perspective, and confidence needed to create value, solve problems, improve society, and build a meaningful life. Understanding this shift early will produce generations that do not wait for opportunities to be given to them. They will create opportunities for themselves and for others.

Good morning, I am still seeking support regarding this. If in a position to assist please do. Any support is very much welcome. Name: Peter Shabanji Number: 0707884567

When Kenyans speak, the government often does not listen. When they petition, they are ignored. When they protest, they are met with force, arrests, injuries, and sometimes even death. Yet when pressure escalates to a level that disrupts normal life, that is often when those in authority finally pay attention, after businesses have been destroyed and livelihoods affected. Now look at what is happening in our schools. Students are learning from the society around them. When students raise concerns, many feel unheard. Their grievances are sometimes dismissed as mere indiscipline rather than examined for the underlying issues they may be pointing to. If young people repeatedly see that peaceful complaints achieve little while disruption attracts attention, should we really be surprised when some adopt the same logic they see playing out in the wider society? We cannot keep asking why dormitories are being burned without asking what happened before the fire. A dormitory does not go up in flames simply because students woke up one morning and decided to burn it. There is usually a chain of events, frustrations, unresolved grievances, broken communication, institutional failures, and warning signs that precede the incident. The problems could go as far back as home. The fires are a symptom. The deeper problem lies in a system where people increasingly believe they must create a crisis before anyone listens. Until we start asking the right questions and addressing the root causes rather than only condemning the outcomes, we will continue treating the smoke while ignoring the fire beneath it. Human behaviour is predictable in many ways and pattern recognition can save you from so much. But above all, a listening ear will save you from doom. The ministry should also stop politicizing education. The sheer lack of acknowledgement that a break is the best you can do right now given the facts on the table and the circumstances surrounding the issue is more political than rational.

If a woman truly likes and respects you, you will feel it in the way she treats you. Even during disagreements, there is still a certain level of care, restraint, and regard for your presence. But when you find yourself doing all the emotional heavy lifting for someone who does not genuinely value you, the disrespect eventually starts revealing itself in subtle ways before it becomes obvious. Human behavior always speaks before words do. The moment someone becomes too comfortable diminishing you, mocking your position, or casually crossing boundaries they would never cross elsewhere, understand that respect has already started fading. And deep down, as a man, you always feel it before you fully admit it to yourself. That inner discomfort never lies. There is symbolism in human behavior that people ignore. In many traditions, kneeling at someone’s feet symbolized humility, honor, or service. Offering a hand symbolizes partnership and equality. But when someone starts treating you like furniture in your own space, that behavior communicates something beyond jokes. Familiarity without respect slowly turns into contempt. People rarely behave carelessly around those they truly respect. There are things someone would never dare do to a boss, mentor, or person they highly regard, yet they comfortably do them at home because they assume your tolerance is endless. That is why boundaries matter. There is also something called “deep down.” That silent inner knowing. You can justify situations publicly, laugh them off, or convince yourself that things are normal, but deep down, your spirit always keeps score. It reminds you when something feels wrong long before your mind accepts it. A father in a home carries symbolic weight whether society admits it or not. To children, a father often represents strength, stability, provision, and certainty. Even when fathers are imperfect, children naturally look at them as people who can handle anything. That position should never be casually undermined because once respect collapses inside a home, the entire structure slowly starts weakening. Human behavior reveals everything. Words can lie. Energy rarely does.

We are slowly walking into a dangerous future that many people are refusing to acknowledge. If things continue the way they are, schools will become more chaotic, communities more unstable, and we will start seeing more teenagers getting involved in crime, violence, drug abuse, and reckless behavior at levels we are not prepared for as a country. Parenting is collapsing in many homes. Some parents are too absent, too overwhelmed, or have surrendered the role of raising children to phones, schools, and the internet. At the same time, our education system is struggling to shape character, discipline, emotional intelligence, and critical thinking beyond just exams and grades. Then add the drug problem into the mix. Drugs are becoming more accessible within estates, neighborhoods, and even around schools. Young people are experimenting earlier, addiction is increasing silently, and many are growing up without proper guidance, mentorship, or emotional support systems. Now combine that with excessive screentime, social media addiction, exposure to harmful content, short attention spans, online radicalization, and the normalization of aggression and disrespect online. You end up creating a generation that is emotionally overstimulated, mentally exhausted, easily influenced, and increasingly disconnected from reality. That combination is a ticking time bomb. A society cannot survive when children grow up without structure, discipline, purpose, values, or present adults guiding them. If parents do not reclaim their responsibility, if schools continue weakening, if mental health remains ignored, and if drugs continue flooding the streets, then the consequences will not just be felt in homes. They will be felt in classrooms, neighborhoods, workplaces, and across the entire country. The warning signs are already here. The patterns have already formed. Kenya must stop treating this as a small issue before we raise a generation that is angry, lost, addicted, and difficult to control.

And because reading culture is already dying, you can see even Grade 6 students having a problem reading, the why, is a story for another day, many people will not investigate deeper. They will consume whatever is summarized for them, whatever trends, whatever appears first on their feed, whatever authority tells them is true. A society that stops reading deeply becomes easier to program emotionally, politically, and psychologically. This is why I believe the conversation about technology is bigger than convenience. It is about control, memory, access, dependency, and the future of independent thought itself. Maybe I am wrong which I doubt I am. Maybe this pattern leads somewhere harmless, but I doubt it is. But when I observe the direction things are taking, I cannot help but ask: What happens to freedom of thought when humanity no longer owns knowledge physically, but only rents access to it digitally? AI will play a critical role in rewriting that history.

There is something I have been observing for a long time now and the more I watch society evolve, the more the pattern keeps revealing itself. We once lived in a world where paper was central to knowledge. Libraries existed everywhere, shelves were filled with books, newspapers circulated freely, and people physically owned information. You could hold knowledge in your hands, store it in your house, pass it down to your children, underline pages, revisit ideas decades later, and no one could alter what was written on your copy unless they physically took it from you. Then industries like Pan Paper collapsed and slowly, the foundation of paper culture began weakening. Next came the rapid rise of technology. Audiobooks emerged. PDFs became common. Soft copies became the norm. Social media shortened attention spans. Video replaced reading. Entire generations began consuming information in fragments rather than in depth. Today, many people barely read complete books anymore. A headline, a short clip, or a summarized thread is enough to shape opinions. Technology then pushed deeper into schools. Notes became digital. Assignments moved online. Tablets and screens started replacing exercise books in some places. And if you remember in Kenya we were even scammed under the laptop project. Saitan! Cloud storage has become more important than physical archives. Step by step, society is normalizing the idea that knowledge no longer needs to physically exist. Then came the global climate change push. Save trees. Reduce paper usage. Digitize systems. Go green. And while environmental conservation is important, I cannot ignore the direction this pattern seems to be taking. What happens when environmental arguments, technological dependence, and policy-making eventually merge into one? I believe a time may come when governments and institutions will begin pushing directives, much like the Type C charger transition for iPhone, where physical books are gradually phased out in the name of efficiency, modernization, and environmental conservation. It will sound progressive. It will sound necessary. It will sound responsible. At first, people will celebrate the convenience. “Why carry books when everything is online?” “Why cut trees for paper?” “Why print when a tablet can store thousands of books?” But convenience often hides dependency. Because once society fully depends on digital access for knowledge, ownership of information changes completely. You no longer truly own knowledge. You merely access it through systems controlled by corporations, governments, internet providers, and digital platforms. A physical book in your house cannot suddenly disappear because someone changed a server policy. A printed page cannot be remotely edited overnight. But digital information can be altered silently, restricted instantly, or erased completely without most people even noticing. And that is where my concern deepens. A future where hard-copy books become rare is also a future where access to information becomes conditional. To read, you may need subscriptions. To research, you may need internet access. To learn history, you may need approval from centralized platforms. Knowledge slowly stops being a right and starts becoming a controlled service. Then comes the most dangerous part of all: the rewriting of history. History has always been shaped by those with power, but physical archives created resistance against total manipulation because old books, newspapers, and documents remained scattered across homes, libraries, and institutions worldwide. They became evidence that could not easily be erased. But in a fully digital world, information becomes fluid. Edits become invisible. Narratives can be adjusted gradually. Uncomfortable truths can disappear from search engines. Entire generations may grow up only knowing the version of reality that algorithms choose to prioritize.

Some people have been misled into believing that money is the highest form of success and the true source of happiness. Slowly, money replaces what should have been family. Then old age arrives, and many return home to empty houses, expensive wine in hand, sleeping beside pets because the people they sacrificed for no longer feel emotionally connected to them. Children rarely “just go wrong.” There is almost always a moment where things began to fall apart. A point where emotional absence quietly planted a seed. A child needs your presence more than your provision, especially in their early years. But many parents abandon presence in the pursuit of success. When the child asks for time, they are sent money. When they crave affection, they receive gifts. A PlayStation, a bicycle, expensive schools, or new clothes. And the parent convinces themselves that these things can substitute love. But children are always watching. They study behavior more than words. They learn what love looks like through experience. And eventually, they become. So when the parent grows old and begins longing for companionship, the child responds the same way they were taught. The parent asks for presence and receives M-Pesa notification. They ask for emotional closeness and are given a caretaker, a house manager, or a dog to fill the silence. At that point, the parent is left alone with questions. Painful questions. Questions that often arrive too late in life to fully answer. Because the boy has become the father. And in many cases, this becomes the fate of fathers more than mothers. Society raises men to believe that providing financially is the highest expression of love. So fathers sacrifice time, affection, softness, and emotional connection while chasing provision in harsh economic conditions. Meanwhile, mothers often spend more time with the children, creating emotional memories that survive into old age. That is why many mothers are loved deeply when they grow old, while fathers sometimes struggle to receive the same emotional energy. Not because fathers never loved, but because many only knew how to express love through sacrifice and money. Even in discipline, many parents unknowingly create distance. Take school fees for example. A parent gives an underage child large amounts of school fees and expects perfect financial responsibility from someone who is still mentally developing. The child loses the money, spends it, or mismanages it. Then the home explodes with rage. Yes, the child is wrong. But parents must also examine their role in the situation. Pay school fees directly to the school where possible. Even in co-parenting arrangements, pay the school fees directly to the school. Handle the responsibilities directly instead of placing burdens on children or using money as a weapon of conflict. I have seen children given school fees while having no pocket money, no emotional support, no guidance, and no understanding. Then people act shocked when peer pressure, frustration, shame, or youthful foolishness leads them into bad decisions. Children are young. Sometimes naive. Sometimes reckless. And sometimes just foolish. But that is part of growing up. You can be angry, yes. But anger without understanding often destroys relationships faster than the original mistake ever could. What usually follows is tragic. The parent unleashes wrath as punishment. The child walks away carrying resentment as punishment. And the issue never truly ends there. The child is constantly reminded of the mistake until home no longer feels like home. The reminders become emotional wounds. Eventually, when the child finally gets the ability to leave, they do. Not always because they hate their parents, but because distance becomes the only way they know how to breathe. Many parents think children drift away suddenly. But most of the time, the drifting started years earlier in small moments that looked insignificant at the time.

The arrogance of some men who always believe they are superior to others is amusing until they end up failing even more miserably than those they looked down upon. You can’t walk into a battlefield where another man has fallen and assume you’ll emerge victorious just because you think you’re different. What exactly makes you believe you’re exempt from the same struggles, the same pitfalls? Is it sheer overconfidence or just ignorance? What makes you so special? This is the same thing with women. A woman will see a man who is very well known for impregnating women and leaving them without taking responsibility but chooses to hang around them hoping for a ring. While at it, get pregnant and demand that he takes responsibility when you know very well, that the only air the man breathes is irresponsibility. It is only a fool who goes to the river hoping to withdraw money, just because it has a bank. Khuli alala?

Living a straight life and being principled in this country is very expensive. You will be denied opportunities because you refuse to compromise your values. You will watch less qualified people rise simply because they were willing to kneel where you chose to stand. You will be called difficult for refusing shortcuts, arrogant for refusing manipulation, and naïve for believing honesty should still matter. In a system where corruption has become the culture, integrity starts to look like rebellion. You will lose deals because you refused to bribe someone. Lose connections because you refused to worship power. Lose friendships because you refused to laugh at evil just to fit in. You will sit in rooms where people treat morality like a weakness and conscience like a disability. The painful part is that sometimes doing the right thing does not even reward you immediately. Sometimes it isolates you. Sometimes it humiliates you publicly, while those who do wrong seem to move ahead effortlessly. There are people surviving on lies, building careers on betrayal, growing wealth through exploitation, and gaining influence through manipulation. Then there is you, trying to sleep peacefully at night while carrying the burden of principles in a society that often rewards performance more than character. That kind of life is emotionally exhausting. Because being principled means constantly fighting battles nobody sees. You fight the temptation to become like the people succeeding through corruption. You fight the pressure to normalize wrong because “everyone is doing it.” You fight loneliness because standing on values often means standing alone. And sometimes the biggest punishment for having morals is watching immoral people thrive without shame. But even then, there is something powerful about remaining clean in a dirty system. There is something dangerous about a person who cannot be bought, intimidated, or corrupted. Because principles may delay your success, but they protect your soul from becoming unrecognizable to yourself. A lot of people are rich but cannot sit alone with their conscience. A lot of people are connected but spiritually empty. A lot of people are celebrated publicly but haunted privately by the things they had to sacrifice to get there. Not every loss is a failure. Sometimes losing opportunities is the price of refusing to sell yourself. Sometimes struggling financially is the cost of refusing blood money. Sometimes isolation is what happens when you stop entertaining environments that require you to betray your humanity just to belong. And despite how painful it is, there is still dignity in being able to look at your own reflection without disgust. Because in the end, a person can survive poverty, delays, rejection, and struggle. What destroys many people is becoming successful at the cost of losing themselves completely.

Giving people experiences you deny yourself, especially when those experiences disappear the moment they are not around, is not generosity, it is a quiet form of self-abandonment. When you take someone to places, dates for example, in places you would hesitate to take yourself, when you stretch your finances to create moments you cannot sustain for your own peace, you are not just being kind, you are performing. You are outsourcing your worth and hoping it comes back as validation. When generosity is real, it flows from abundance, not from pressure. It does not leave you depleted, conflicted, or quietly resentful. If you can only access that level of effort, care, and spending in the presence of someone else, then it is not about them, it is about what you are trying to prove. That is the trap of “Sahani za Wageni.” Prioritizing the guest while the host goes hungry. Curating experiences for others while neglecting your own baseline of comfort and dignity. If you cannot show up for yourself at that level, doing it for someone else is not love or respect. It is people-pleasing dressed up as generosity.

You often imagine that by pointing out some of these things, I am on the other side. Think big. Sifuna also needs to put his party in order. Is it ODM he will vie in, and if yes, will he be the presidential candidate as a SecGen to the party, since he has already endorsed Orengo as party leader? Or will they have a different party where he is the party leader? And how would he be a presidential candidate as a SecGen? Or will they change the template to make him party leader and Presidential candidate? I believe he needs time to get things in order. As a DP, he will have all the time in the world to make these adjustments. And while forming this arrangement toward 2027, Sifuna and his counterparts need to make sure that they are not allowing the bad apples to joyride with them because that is the likely outcome. Many bad apples are joining the bandwagon to sanitize themselves. And I see them too. There is much to say but I believe that when too much is said, less is comprehended. So, class dismissed.