Dear Faith, An Update From the Road of Becoming

Dear Faith

Do you remember the promises we whispered years ago under the weight of uncertainty, that we would never give up, that we would chase opportunities no matter how far they seemed? Today, I am writing back to you, not from the end of the journey, but from the middle, where progress may look small to the world but feels monumental to us.

Do you remember that day in class, when the lecturer gave us an assignment to write a feature article? Everyone tried, but only one piece was chosen for publication in the Daily Nation, the country’s most famous paper. That piece was ours. People thought we had connections, but they never saw the hard work, the long hours, the creative thinking behind it. They did not see how much we believed in our words. That was not luck, Faith. That was resilience, that was us.

And how about the university Story Fest competition? The sponsor had a choice of millions of students, but he chose you. Someone you had never met before — someone who only knew you through your words. He didn’t see just a student; he saw the fire in your writing. He handed you a contract to write five stories. Others thought it was chance, but only we know the truth. Do you remember the sleepless nights, lying awake, thinking, rethinking, shaping every sentence until it burned with meaning? That was not chance. That was hard work. That was the determination we promised each other.

Since then, we have been building brick by brick. Working as a communication specialist with Hold My Hands Organization and Tumakinike Trust Organization. Winning honorariums that reminded us our voice matters. Writing stories that touched lives. And now, becoming a creative writer with Safina Organization.

To others, these might look like small steps, but to us, they are giant leaps. Proof that the little girl who once dreamed is still alive, still fighting, still pushing. And in that journey, working with these organizations has opened my eyes in ways I never imagined. Sometimes I thought my problems were big—until I met children, women, and families carrying burdens heavier than words can hold. That’s when I learned: we walk past people every day, and none of them wear signs that say “I’m grieving,” “I’m exhausted,” or “I’m barely holding it together.” But they are everywhere.

Through these experiences, I have discovered the quiet power of kindness. To lend a hand, to listen, to show up—it might be the only softness someone receives in their hardest moment. That is what these steps have taught me: that our voice, our effort, our empathy can make the weight someone else carries a little lighter.

Dear Faith, let me remind you — you are a hard worker. You are a go-getter. Your worth is not defined by what others think or expect of you. It is found in your kindness, your resilience, and your willingness to keep moving forward even when the path feels uncertain.

And soon, I will write again, celebrating you — for that dream job, for that heart you touched, for that dream car you will one day drive. But before that moment comes, I will still cheer you on in the little victories, in the unseen progress, in the quiet resilience that carries us forward.

I’ll remind you every step of the way: becoming you is not a destination, it is a journey. And I am proud of how far we have come.

The journey is not over. This is only a chapter, but I am proud of every line we’ve written so far. Keep pushing forward, future girl. The world needs your brilliance, your heart, your spirit. Even when it gets tough — and it will — remember this: you are becoming.

I am working to meet you, Faith. I am chasing you in every assignment, every story, every achievement. And when I finally catch up, I know you will smile and say: you didn’t give up, you kept the promise.

With love,

Faith