Masila Kanyingi
It was early Monday, October 20th, when my phone rang. “Good morning, my hero!” my customer greeted cheerfully. I blinked twice; was he talking to me? Had someone finally recognized my heroism in surviving Nairobi traffic and late payments?
Then it dawned on me it was Mashujaa Day, the day Kenya celebrates its heroes. But who, really, are our heroes? The TV announcer’s voice soon cut through my thoughts, solemnly reminding us that we had just buried the late Honourable Raila Odinga a national hero. I nodded respectfully, but my idle curiosity had been awakened. What exactly is a hero in Kenya?
That question led me down a rabbit hole of contemplation and, inevitably, satire. I remembered Jonathan Swift, the sharp-tongued 18th-century satirist of Gulliver’s Travels, who once wrote: “It is better to have one farmer than 500 politicians. One farmer can feed 500 politicians for a year, but 500 politicians cannot feed one farmer for a year.”
If only Swift could visit Naivasha! He’d find our flower growers, the quiet heroes of Kenya feeding not just politicians, but entire families, schools, hospitals, and communities. These are the people who wake before sunrise, talk to plants more lovingly than most couples talk to each other, and still have the patience to deal with freight delays and weather tantrums.
Let’s pause for a moment to appreciate the scale of what these growers do. While others plunder, they plant. While others hold rallies, they hold soil. Kenya’s flower industry has invested trillions in the nation’s growth. It directly employs over 300,000 Kenyans, and indirectly sustains more than 3 million dependents. Add to that the vast ecosystem of crop protection, nutrition, freight, logistics, post-harvest services, and other suppliers then you’ll find that nearly 4 million livelihoods bloom from the flower sector.
And these are not just jobs. The same growers build schools, clinics, orphanages, and even police stations in their communities. They keep entire regions alive often with little more than passion, debt, and sunshine.
So today, I’m taking matters into my own editorial hands. To all flower growers of Kenya, I hereby award you the title OFS (Order of the Floriweek Sphere).
Because while others chase glory, you grow it — one bloom at a time.