By the time I had my son, I was already a mother to my four-year-old daughter. My daughter gave me ambition and I became an accountant. I now had goals and was all about securing the bag. But when my son was born, he made me think about how I wanted to show up in the world. 

I named my son while he was in my womb. I gave both children Swahili names as they’re half Kenyan. My son’s name means happiness and prosperity. Every day, I would talk over my pregnant stomach and speak life over my son. 

At the time, I wasn’t consciously spiritual. I was leaning into my intuition. I was shaping him to be a warrior. I knew he would be the first of both sides of his family to grow into the man our families needed. A man who walked in integrity. A man who loved himself.

I soon realised that in order to raise such a man as a single mother, I would have to do my own inner work. I had to confront what I had seen with the men within my family.