By By Brian Kipkogei Olesankale
There’s a quiet crisis unfolding in our homes, classrooms, and workplaces — and no one wants to talk about it. It’s not about drugs, unemployment, or technology. It’s about responsibility — and how an entire generation is learning to avoid it.
Ask a parent why their 26-year-old son still depends on them, and they’ll say jobs are scarce. Ask a young woman why she can’t move out, and she’ll point to rent and inflation. These are valid reasons. But behind the surface lies a deeper truth: many young Kenyans are growing up afraid of the weight that comes with adulthood.
“Adulting” Is Now a Fear Word
Somewhere between jokes on Twitter and viral TikToks, “adulting” became a curse word — something people say with dread, like a disease. Paying bills. Managing emotions. Owning mistakes. Raising children. These are no longer seen as normal transitions in life. They’re viewed as punishments.
And to be fair, who wouldn’t be scared? We watched our parents carry the world on their shoulders — some crushed by it. Fathers who never rested. Mothers who suffered silently. Siblings who sacrificed their dreams to hold families together. Responsibility looked painful. And we swore we’d avoid it at all costs.
The Shelter of Excuses
We live in an era that romanticizes delay. “I’m still finding myself.” “The system is broken.” “This is my soft girl/boy era.” It’s true that the world today is more complex — economically, emotionally, politically. But too often, we hide behind these truths to avoid accountability.
You’ll hear young men say, “Marriage is a scam,” while still expecting a woman to cook and clean. You’ll hear women say, “Men are trash,” while ghosting someone without a conversation. Employers complain that interns can’t meet deadlines, while employees say employers are toxic — and no one wants to grow through discomfort anymore.
We’ve mastered the art of blame. But blame doesn’t build nations. Responsibility does. What We Were (Not) Taught
This isn’t entirely our fault. Responsibility isn’t inherited — it’s modeled. And many of us were never shown how to carry weight without being crushed. We were told to pass exams, but not how
to manage money. We were told to obey elders, but not how to challenge injustice. We were told to “grow up,” but never what that actually meant.
In chasing better lives for their children, many parents overprotected their kids — solving every problem, shielding every consequence. Now we have a generation that wants freedom without structure, love without sacrifice, and success without patience.
Hope Is Not Lost
But here’s the good news: awareness is power. The fact that we can have this conversation means the cycle can break. More young Kenyans are seeking therapy. More are starting businesses, raising children differently, and questioning toxic gender roles. That’s where responsibility begins — not in perfection, but in intention.
Being responsible doesn’t mean having all the answers. It means showing up even when things are hard. It means holding yourself to a standard that isn’t based on likes or claps, but on truth.
Final Thought
If Kenya is to grow — politically, economically, emotionally — it won’t be because a few people led us well. It will be because millions of us decided to grow up. To face hard things. To stop running. To take the weight.
Because the truth is, no one else is coming.
