The Power of Perseverance

I recently moved from Nairobi to Geneva. I’ll write more about that soon, but for now, I can only say wow. The three years I spent in Kenya were pure magic. I met so many incredible people, including writers, artists, and queer activists, and I had the privilege of working on a topic I’m passionate about—the localization of humanitarian action and development. I saw many parts of the country and a wide range of wildlife, including the elephants of Amboseli, the lions of the Masai Mara, the flamingos of Lake Elementaita, and the last two living Northern White Rhinos at the Ol Pajeta Conservancy in Nanyuki.

On a personal level, Kenya was special to me because it was there that I decided to revive an old manuscript I had nearly given up on. The idea for Deficient had been with me for years, but after repeated rejections (even with literary representation), I didn’t have a clear path forward. When I moved to Nairobi in 2021, a voice inside urged me to give it one more chance. I took on the challenge, stealing moments from busy days to rework the manuscript, reading books on the craft of novel writing, and editing relentlessly. And voila… here we are!

Kenya was kind to Deficient in so many ways. I brought an entire suitcase of books with me—fifty in total—and they found new homes more quickly than I could have imagined. I appreciated how many people supported me in this new phase of my life, especially my Kenyan colleagues. My colleague Helen ordered her copy online and read it during a vacation. After finishing, she raved about it to others, refusing to lend it out. “You have to buy it to support Michael!” she declared. Helen would make an excellent publicist! 🙂

I held a book event at an incredible independent bookstore called Cheche Books—a small but bold literary hub with “Free Palestine” messages posted on the walls. Kevin Mwachiro, author of Invisible: Stories from Kenya’s Queer Community, co-hosted the event, and he did a fantastic job. Kevin is a well-known journalist, activist, and podcaster, and his ability to lead an inclusive discussion is extraordinary. We explored Deficient‘s origins, the archetype of the outcast, diversity and queerness in writing, and the role of books in our complex and divided world, among other topics.

Kevin surprised me by reading a passage from my book that resonated with him:

“Now that I’ve risen above a fear I didn’t know I had, the sensation of flying through the sky without limits transforms into a total rush. This is what it must feel like to soar like an eagle. I spread my arms out, pretending they’re wings, and laugh. And laugh. I can’t stop. Tears slide from the corners of my eyes across my temples. This is the sensation of undiluted freedom.”

He found the passage beautiful and asked me if I encountered any surprises in my writing during the editing process. I often get so caught up in creating that I don’t stop to notice the beauty that might be emerging. I guess that’s not my job. It’s for readers to find what resonates with them, and their feedback is invaluable.

Before the event, I was nervous about how many people would attend. Despite my efforts to spread the word, my full-time job made it hard to keep up with invitations. But the seats filled, and many people bought copies of Deficient. There was a sense of warmth and celebration, and I felt all the love.

Another special event was visiting the Utumishi Boys Academy with Helen, whose nephew is a student there. Helen’s sister organized the event, gathering an audience of over 400 students. I provided an overview of the book and characters, showed them the book trailer, and engaged them in a lively Q&A that involved me running laps around the room to pass the mic. The energy was electric as they asked questions about the book’s inspiration, character design, overcoming writer’s block, and the fear of failure.

The question about failure struck a chord with me, leading me to share a story about my first creative writing class at Princeton with the prolific Joyce Carol Oates. I struggled with the assignments, but one—a monologue—changed everything. On that assignment, I drew from my own experiences instead of creating something overly fantastical. When my piece was up for critique, JCO looked at me for several seconds before saying, “Michael, now I know you can write.” That validation meant the world to me at 19, fueling my journey ever since. The students at Utumishi Boys Academy broke into applause when I told that story, perhaps because it resonated with their own struggles of figuring out what they enjoy doing and finding their paths.

In life, we’re all figuring it out as we go. We don’t always have all the answers, and we won’t always get things right. But there is real power in perseverance. My entire writing journey has been about perseverance—getting back up every time I fall and pushing through challenges, even when energy levels are low. Perseverance is the reason Deficient was written and published, and it was the reason why I stood in that auditorium that day.

These two experiences are ones that I’ll carry with me wherever I go, and they reaffirm how special the act of sharing our art and ideas can be.

My tears fell in streams as I rode in the taxi to the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport one last time, slowly grasping the depth of how much Kenya and its people had impacted me. Although I’m embarking on a new journey, I know that the connections I made in Kenya will always be a part of me, and they inspire me to continue creating and sharing stories wherever I go.