Karibu magazine 2nd Edition

I lived a simple childhood with my parents.
I realised very early on that although I was
potentially very intelligent, I was different from
other children and had an entirely different
identity. Growing up in the UK confused me; I
didn’t understand where I would fit in. I didn’t
understand why my parents could not give me
the same things as the British children had.
By the time I reached the second year of my
secondary Education, I was now a well known
young person in my local area of Stratford in
east London. I was endlessly energetic and very
easily bored, a young active mind at constant
overdrive and needing to be captivated, peer
pressure knocking on the door. By year 8, I
started getting in trouble at school and at
home, entertaining gang life and the party
free lifestyle.
The first transformation came when my
parents decided to send me to Kenya to
complete my secondary school education:
I felt numb emotionless. I went from being
well known and comfortable with the people
around me to being the new girl, the different
one (again).I couldn’t let them smell fear
otherwise they would have torn me apart.
While in Kenya my teachers saw the “light”
in me. They understood I wasn’t a bad kid.
Instead they knew I was just an intelligent and
energetic girl. I was a member of most sport
teams, choir and after school activities. I made
great friends and I loved the experience and I
fell in love with my country, I fell in love with
my family. This is why I see the light in young
adults. They have such amazing dreams and a
strong desire to be a part of this world, valid
hardworking members willing to make a full
and whole contribution.
Between the ages 16 and 17, I felt so
unproductive after coming from a productive
environment in Kenya. I got pregnant at 17
and moved out of my parents’ house. I would
say this was a hugely disruptive time in my life.
I felt like a disappointment, like I was destined
to fail. At this time I was in the process of
joining college and eventually entered higher
education while caring for my daughter.
Launching my organisation came with so many
blessings disguised as failures, people didn’t
believe in me, they judged me, and they felt
my past defined my ability to contribute to my
community. I have been disappointed so many
times in the past. I made the decision to allow
my dreams to motivate me, I knew I came out
of this whole life for a reason; I threw my heart
into God, into the youth, into productivity and
into development. I succeeded in all.
The real success story is written by my parents;
most individuals give up on their children
and accept the labels society throws at their
children. My parents gave me the time to
realise how much they had invested in me;
they gave me time to realise that they were
trying to provide for me in a country rigged
with unequal opportunities for African
men and women. My biggest regret is not
appreciating who I was at an earlier stage in
life and allowing others to define me.
Today I am Stessy Nyaga, 25 years of age
and a graduate in Forensic Science with
Human Biology; managing the umbrella
youth organisation for young Kenyans in
the Diaspora. I am an associate fellow for the
Royal Commonwealth Society and I have won
multiple awards for my contributions to young
people and contributing to international
youth policy.
I am also Stessy Nyaga, a single mother,
originating from Shauri Moyo, Kenya; I am also
Stessy Nyaga a young woman who overcame
the stereotypes of being black and African in
the United Kingdom to succeed and do what I
want and make a contribution to make the lives
of the youth better as well as my community
too.
1ST EDITION | JULY 2016 53