My journey with money hasn’t been smooth. It’s been shaped by moments of struggle, self-reflection and a constant hunger to rise above being broke. And no one can convince me otherwise: money matters. Not just a little but a lot.

‎They say money is not everything. But look around, everything seems to revolve around it. How did we get here?

‎There are days I step out, check my phone balance and just stare at the screen. Then I look up and whisper to myself, “Damn… I’m broke.” Not poor, just broke.

And somehow, that difference gives me a strange kind of motivation. It pushes me to ask myself, “If I’m just broke, then what’s next?” The answer is always the same — chase the money.

‎Some memories still hit hard, though. I remember one cold morning in a matatu from Roysambu to Westlands, I was in my own zone, trying to ignore the reality in my pocket. Then the conductor approached and asked, “Can I see your message?” That moment felt like a movie scene. My balance was zero. Even my Fuliza was over the limit.

‎But I stayed calm.

‎“Come back after a minute,” I told him confidently. “My phone has hanged.”

‎In that minute, I made a quick call, one that saved me. I managed the situation. But deep down, I knew what it meant: Without money, even basic movement becomes a struggle.

‎That’s when it hits you. I look at how society treats people without money. Respect becomes conditional. Value becomes negotiable.

‎I’ve seen it with friends. When we go out, some don’t even look at prices, they just point at what they want. Meanwhile, you’re calculating every coin in your head, negotiating silently with your wallet. That gap? That’s the power of money.

‎Being broke doesn’t just affect my pocket, it changes me. The way I talk. The way I carry myself. Even my confidence takes a hit. I withdraw into my own world, watching life happen instead of living it.

‎Relationships are not spared. ‎In today’s generation, money plays a role even in love. I’ve seen young guys in my age group get into relationships only for things to fall apart within weeks because they could not provide. One week she’s yours, the next she’s with someone else who can afford a better life. It’s harsh, but it’s real.

‎I tried it once. That experience was enough. It taught me that in a world driven by money, emotions alone are rarely enough.

‎That realisation changed me. Now, I see things differently. I see the cost of living rising. I see how expensive everything has become. And in my lowest moments, when I have nothing, I feel it even more. Sometimes I spend a little just to feel okay, only to wake up the next day regretting it. Then comes the mental math, the M-pesa checks, the frustration.

‎That voice in my head doesn’t stay quiet. ‎“You haven’t attained the power of money yet.” ‎And it’s right.

‎I’m tired of being broke. ‎I want more, not just for myself but for my future. I want to build, step by step, brick by brick. I want to reach a point where I don’t hesitate, where I can walk into a place and simply point at what I want. Not to impress but to feel free.

‎Because in this world, money doesn’t just buy things. It buys comfort. It buys respect. It buys options. ‎And most importantly, it buys peace of mind.

‎I think about my mother. I think about giving her a better life, a home she deserves. That dream alone is enough to keep me going.

‎The truth is, no one is locked out of success forever. The ‘loaded life’ isn’t reserved for a few; it’s possible for anyone willing to chase it with discipline and focus.

‎So, why not me?

‎This is no longer just about money. It’s about breaking limits, changing narratives and reclaiming dignity. ‎I’m done watching from the sidelines. ‎I’m getting mine.