Every scar has a story. “Letter to My Younger Self” invites you into the reflective hearts of people who’ve walked winding roads—offering gentle truths, bold lessons, and encouragement for anyone still figuring it out. These weekly letters are full of grace and grit, showing how setbacks shape wisdom and how the past still holds power to teach. From nurturing curiosity to embracing mentorship, each piece is a tribute to growth through lived experience.

George Githinji* not his real name, pens this week’s heartfelt Letter to My Younger Self.

Dear Younger Self, 

During my primary school days, I wanted to be either a doctor or an engineer. For a millennial, it was the norm to have such aspirations because the professions were deemed serious and meant for ambitious people.

This meant that academic excellence was part and parcel of my learning journey and this exerted a lot of pressure on me. I was therefore raised under the (false) impression that academics was everything and nothing else mattered. Not extracurricular activities such as playing football, engaging in athletics, learning how to play the piano or even singing. The focus was on studies and passing exams.

Today, if I were to go back to my younger self, I would put less pressure on myself, and I would explore other non-academic activities that would really make me a more well-rounded person.

As a result of the academic pressure, I often battled what psychologists call imposter syndrome despite topping my class in KCPE, going to university and even winning a scholarship to study abroad for postgraduate studies.  My younger self would challenge the assumptions of my parents that academics is the only path to excelling in life.

While I do not downplay the many doors academic qualifications have opened for me over the years, such as travelling the world and climbing the social ladder, when I look back in hindsight, it came at a great cost.

The world of today, with its many social upheavals and digital disruptions, requires people who are more than book smart. It needs individuals with more emotional intelligence, more mental fortitude and more adaptability to the whirlwind of change.

A letter to my younger self would concentrate on learning those skills to become a better person for the benefit of my family, community and the society at large. My younger self would tell others that striking a balance in our daily activities is vital because change is constant. It does not care whether you are an ‘A’ student, a ‘C’ student or even a ‘D’ student. Life, I guess, rewards more often those who can see the bigger picture.

Everyone has a story worth sharing. If you’ve ever wished you could talk to your younger self—with wisdom, forgiveness, or clarity—we invite you to write to us. Your real, heartfelt letter might just be the encouragement someone else needs today. You may remain anonymous if preferred, but your truth matters. We don’t pay contributors, but we believe in the power of shared experience. Join us in building a collection of life’s hard-earned lessons and gentle reminders.

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