I grew up in rural central Kenya, in a small village in Murang’a County. Shoes were a luxury for most of us. If you had a pair, they were probably hand-me-downs from a cousin in the city; worn out or too big, but you wore them like they were gold because they meant someone remembered you.

Shoes were only for special occasions like church, weddings, or burials. To school, we went barefoot. The classrooms weren’t even cemented, and during dry seasons, the dust would choke the air. We would carry water in jerrycans just to try to keep it down, but that didn’t stop the jiggers. The fleas from the bare soil would burrow into our feet, and it hurt to walk. But we still showed up. Limping, dusty, barefoot, but we were there.

In some homes, even the fathers didn’t own shoes. One pair would be shared among the family if the feet were close enough in size. I never had shoes that fit properly. They were always too big, “so you can grow into them.” And we never washed them after one wear. You didn’t risk wearing them out too fast.

When I turned ten, things started to change. My parents could afford to buy me shoes, but even then, wearing them to school felt odd. We were so used to being barefoot that shoes felt like something for other people. Sometimes we would carry them in our bags and only wear them when we had to.

Then, a philanthropist from our community began donating shoes and organizing campaigns to teach hygiene and how to keep the fleas away. We went home with a pair of shoes, and it wasn’t just about the shoes it was about being seen, about knowing we were worthy of something more.

Shoes taught me that true wealth is not in what you wear, but in how you walk through life. Whether barefoot or in the finest shoes, it’s your heart that matters. 

The journey from walking barefoot to wearing shoes mirrors travel. At first, travel can feel uncomfortable, and the path ahead may seem uncertain, but each step shapes us. Travel teaches us resilience, pushing through discomfort and embracing the unknown. It also reminds us to appreciate the small comforts we often take for granted and highlights the importance of community, connecting with others and sharing experiences. 

 

Agnes Irungu