Dear 2026,
I know I am speaking for many when I say we are not meeting you with fireworks or fresh pages. That we are arriving tired.
Some of us limped here, others crawled, while some were carried by friends, by faith, by habit or even sheer stubbornness. The truth is, we did not close the door neatly on the year that just ended. We dragged pieces of it with us. Maybe it was unanswered prayers.
Listen, some are swimming in debts that did not cancel themselves simply because a new year begun. And some were diagnosed with illnesses they don’t even know where to start with the healing process because, you know, hospital bills. Not to talk of the disappointments we never quite named.
So if you were expecting enthusiasm, forgive us.
What we have instead is endurance.
They say a new year is a clean slate, but is it really? All that new year new me talk we used to shout a while back, what happened? Could it be that time has taught us the absurdity of expecting miracles simply because dates changed on the calendar? Because that has never been how time works for real people. Calendars change fast yes, while the circumstances stay the same. Grief does not check the date before following you forward. Neither does hunger, loneliness, heartbreak or fear. January does not erase December. What it does though, is simply ask us to keep going anyway.
And we have.
Across Africa (or even globally), we begin this year under familiar weight. The cost of living still climbs and jobs remain uncertain. Healthcare is still a gamble for too many. Politics continues to demand patience we are running out of (I know every Kenyan can relate to this particular one). Families are stretched thin emotionally and financially, trying to make something hold where systems have failed.
Yet, somehow, we are still here.
That should count for something, right?
This letter is not a wish list. My dearest 2026, nobody is asking you for miracles, although those would be nice for a change. We are asking for kindness. Not the soft, sentimental kind, but the practical kind that shows up in ordinary days.
Be kinder to the mother doing mental arithmetic in the supermarket aisle, deciding what to put back.
Kinder to the graduate who did everything right and is still waiting. And to the man who is strong for everyone else, tried to be everyone’s pillar of strength while the cracks begin to show and who is quite frankly, exhausted.
What about the woman who survived last year but lost parts of herself along the way? The single mother who is at a breaking point and doesn’t know where the next meal will come from, let alone school fees for the new term for her three children?
Please be kinder to those who are grieving in silence because their loss was inconvenient, complicated or misunderstood.
Read on 👉 Living With a Grief That Has No Grave
Please be kind to those who are healing from things they never talk about or smile easily because it is safer than explaining.
If you must bring change, let it not be relentless. Let it come with pauses and moments to breathe. You deserve that atleast, small mercies that do not make headlines but make life livable. You could start with paying a bill on time. Do the little things that may seem insignificant but go a long way towards your peace of mind.
We are not asking to be spared from hardship entirely. Come on, we know better by now. We are simply asking that when difficulty comes, it does not come alone. Let it be accompanied by community, by understanding, by moments of relief that remind us why we keep going.
And if you can, be gentle with our hopes. Us, who are delicate like flowers, complete with fragile hopes. We are hopeful, yes, but cautiously so, like people who have learned that optimism without realism can be cruel. Teach us that hope does not have to be loud to be real and that quiet persistence is also a form of faith.
This year, allow us to measure success differently. Let it not be by how much we accumulate, but by how much we survive without losing ourselves, or at the very least our humanity. Let it now be just about the pursue of constant growth, but by moments of rest too.
We all need money, happiness, richness, soft life – you know, the usual works. But, If we make it to the end of you a little softer, a little wiser and a little more honest about our limits, let that be enough.
Read on 👉 The Invisible Widow: Grieving a Love That Was Never Public
So, My dearest 2026, All we ask is that you do not rush us or harden us.
Do not demand more than we can give. But above all, bless us in ways we never thought possible, and be kind. Surely, that cannot be asking for too much?
Because after all, we are trying our best, trial and error ING in this journey called life.
