The Blooming Maasai

There are moments when giving up whispers as the easier option. But for some of us, that option was never on the map. The terrain of our dreams doesn’t have an exit route.

The biggest risk I ever took was moving from Kenya to Europe. I grew up envisioning a life abroad as something beyond my wildest dreams a realm of possibility where a caged eagle could finally break free. My spirit felt restless, convinced there was more for me to become. My father, ever protective, worried. How did his daughter secure such an opportunity without connections or bribes? Was it a scam? A human trafficking ring? His fears were valid, but my resolve was absolute. For those of us who must climb mountains just to see the horizon, when a door opens, you step through. No matter how unknown the path on the other side.

And so I left. Alone. Scared, but fundamentally fearless.

The Eagle Breaks Free

In the year before I left, I had begun calling myself a village girl with a global perspective. As the plane lifted off, that confession became my possession. I was no longer just imagining a global life; I was living it.

What began as a risk quickly transformed into the best decision of my life. Europe unlocked a tougher, more resilient version of me. To pay for my master’s degree and sustain myself, I worked jobs I would never have considered in Kenya: cleaning, housekeeping, ticketing at events, order picking in warehouses. I felt like I did it all.

There were moments of sadness, wondering how a master’s degree holder could be scrubbing floors after people who may not have a college education. Educationally, I was at the top of the pyramid; socially, I was at the lowest rank. My father would say, “You can always come home.” But I knew I needed to stay. I was being taught a fundamental lesson in humility. To truly serve and lead from the top, I first had to understand what it meant to serve at the bottom. I had to experience being overlooked to appreciate the view from the summit.

It reminded me of Joseph in the Bible. Before he became the second-most powerful ruler in Egypt, saving nations from famine, he first served in Potiphar’s house and was forgotten in a prison.

This was my character test. And I am proud to say, I passed.

Lessons in the Valley

My social life was a casualty of my survival. My classmates knew me as “Nelly, who is always working.” I did not have the privilege many of my peers enjoyed. I am a representation of countless international students who struggle in silence. I couldn’t add pressure to my family back home, who were battling the harsh reality of climate change: prolonged droughts stealing our livestock. As a Maasai, I haven’t just studied climate change; I have lived its devastating impact.

This solidified a truth in me: any success I achieve is not mine alone. It belongs to my family and my community. My success is our success.

The System and the Shift

After my master’s, a new challenge emerged: the silent, crushing wall of rejection. “Unfortunately, we have decided to go with other candidates.” Template emails that chipped away at my self-esteem. I began to doubt my own potential.

Then, a pivotal shift occurred. I asked myself: why was I so keen to find an opportunity when I am the opportunity?

It sounds bold, perhaps even cocky. But it’s all about perspective. You can let a system define you, or you can define yourself against the system. I am not a victim. I am an architect. So, I built my own platforms: The Blooming Maasai and The Blooming Consultant. I wanted them to be perfect, but I realized perfection is the ultimate procrastination. I launched them in their imperfect, raw states, choosing progress over polish.

The next step was the hardest: visibility.

For years, my LinkedIn profile was as dormant and imposing as Mount Kilimanjaro. I was afraid. Afraid of being seen trying, afraid of posting into an abyss of no engagement, afraid of being a laughingstock. I had to have a firm talk with myself: It is okay to be seen trying. It is okay to be the joke for a while, because I will be the one laughing last.

The Four Stages of Becoming

My journey has taught me that growth is not a straight line but a cycle of transformation:

1. The Humbling Stage: Life crashes into you, and your ego must die. This is the great filter. Many do not survive this stage because they cling to pride, never experiencing true growth.
2. The Self-Awareness Stage: You emerge from the humbling knowing that what didn’t kill you forged you into something stronger. Challenges become invitations to grow, not threats to your existence.
3. The Reinvention Stage: Armed with self-knowledge, you can no longer settle. You move from what is merely available to what speaks authentically to your heart. You build your own table instead of waiting for a seat.
4. The Summiting Stage: You arrive at your goal. But the cycle doesn’t end; it evolves. A new challenge is unlocked. As they say, different levels, different devils.

My Desiderata

This journey echoes the timeless wisdom of the poem Desiderata. I have learned to go placidly amid the noise and haste, and to be on good terms with all persons, including myself. I have accepted that life will humble you before it exalts you. What you survive will teach you who you are. And reinvention is not a sign of failure, but the ultimate proof of strength.

I am still becoming. I am still blooming. I am still my biggest project: A perpetual construction site where the blueprint is constantly being redrawn by my own hands.

I am my biggest project — still under construction, still learning, still summiting. If you’ve ever felt like giving up, I hope my story reminds you: the climb is worth it.

A Note on the Art: The images in this article are AI-generated brought to life to visually interpret the metaphors of my journey.