Invisible Star.

My senior, KT, writes very well. I don’t know why he waited until he became a senior fox before he started enriching our lives with his deep, practical, and humorous perspectives on life. Maybe he was cooking slowly to serve us the best broth. I have become an avid reader of his posts on LinkedIn— https://www.linkedin.com/in/kenneth-thimba-. Recently, he wrote about something similar to what I wrote about many Fridays ago: being approved in private. He talks about people who keep showing up when nobody was watching.

What stood out for me was the one ingredient required to succeed at anything: consistency. Consistency is boring because it’s all about the grind, and it takes forever—often without looking cute or attracting attention. One of its definitions is continuing to do what we should do, even after the enthusiasm has gone. My definition for it is working overtime in the dark for a long time while no one sees your effort, until the lights come on much later.

Hapo ndio iko shida. Imagine persevering when no one seems interested in your work or project, and more ‘nos’ are coming your way than ‘yeses.’ What keeps people doing their thing when they have no cheerleader?

It’s easier when we are encouraged to do something and people are clapping for us. By the way, that is what keeps me going when running marathons: the cheering of the crowd. I feel as if I’m representing them, so I can’t quit. But many important life projects, especially personal ones, have no cheering squad. In fact, the squad is often doubting or even discouraging.

So, what’s the fuel that keeps people going when no one is cheering them on? What makes folks who are doing great things, that take time, keep going without giving up? Well, many do, but there are those who don’t. The crowds, with their accolades, show up when you win—after your long and often lonely effort finally breaks through enough to be noticed. KT says that beneath every headline is a decade that nobody saw. How true that is. He goes on to say that consistency is not a personality trait; it is a strategy. A long-game strategy, if I may add.

I dare say that the difference between those who live epic lives and those who do not is determined by how consistent they were. Being consistent is key, but I think, in addition, it requires a version of kujituma. What do I mean? For instance, I have posted here every Friday for almost a decade. It’s been a labour of love; sometimes sina story, but I tell myself that I have to show up. What’s the endgame? Sijui, but I feel it’s my responsibility to share weekly. It’s part of my mission in life, so I do it. Plus it gives me deep fulfilment doing it.

A pal recently challenged me to up my game on this storytelling love affair. They suggested that maybe I’m waiting to be discovered, and perhaps it’s time I became my own influencer and pushed myself out there more. While I see some value in that (and have accepted the challenge), I think there’s a place for just being quietly consistent and letting success make the noise for you. For this blog, the ‘aha!’ moments for my readers are the secret fuel that keeps me writing.

“The world celebrates milestones; it rarely celebrates maintenance,” KT says. Maybe it’s time we threw a bash for maintenance—for showing up as a parent, business owner, spouse, or CEO day after day, just because we are required to and it’s the right thing to do. Good people show up and keep showing up, even when it’s inconvenient. That’s what brings progress. And while progress can be slow, it may finally gets us noticed, and celebrated at some point. Maybe we should look at the celebration from others as a bonus not a KPI.

From reading KT’s story, maybe it’s time we found a way of celebrating maintenance so that we can keep running our life marathons without giving up. Not all people reach the finish line, but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t run. How do we celebrate those who got into the race, but didn’t get to the end? They showed up and they deserve to be recognised and celebrated too.

Headlines are not guaranteed, that’s why we should applaud those living the decade that no one notices. Maybe we should change the headlines in our life situations from ‘finishing the race’ to ‘entering the race.’ Celebrate the courage to attempt, and if victory comes, then throw a bigger bash. That way, we acknowledge ourselves both during and at the end of the race, should we finish. And while we are at it, may we not forget to clap for others as we wait for our moment.

Folks, we have to find what fuel will keep us going before we arrive on stage. What will stop you from giving up? How will you be your own influencer and celebrity as you continue working on your calling or project? If we wait for others to notice us, we outsource our destiny—and that’s not a good thing. When no one is noticing you, notice yourself. Be kind to yourself, and, if possible, pull someone else on a similar journey along with you.

Perhaps the narrative we need to push is that you are already a star, even before the world notices. Maybe I’m saying this because my baby shark turned sixteen this week. I remember when we were singing the ‘Baby Shark’ song years back, when she was barely a foot off the ground. Parenting is a lifetime job—often thankless, with no guarantees for the effort we put in—but we have to find a way to keep raising our kids when no one is applauding us.

Many of life’s significant achievements require a long-game strategy. It’s like a long road trip, so we can’t afford to run out of gas. What fuel do you need to keep you going, folks? How will you achieve the life you desire and deserve?