What's your favorite month of the year? Why? February always flirts with me. She shows up in soft pinks and mischievous reds, tossing rose petals at my feet like I’m some kind of goddess. And maybe I am, at least in February. It’s my birth month, after all. The one where the air feels like a love letter and even the wind seems to whisper, “

What is your favorite place to go in your city? Tucked beside the roaring pulse of Nairobi’s Central Business District, Uhuru Park is a rare gem — a tranquil haven where time slows down and thoughts flow freely. Despite being surrounded by the city's relentless energy, the park offers a surprising calm, like a deep breath in the middle of chaos.

What's the first impression you want to give people? In the theater of human connection, the first impression is your opening act — silent yet resounding, brief yet unforgettable. It’s the moment your presence speaks before your words do, shaping perceptions and planting the seeds of trust, curiosity, or admiration. Whether you're stepping into a room full of strangers or meeting someone one-on-one, your first impression is your silent signature the mark you leave behind when everything else is still unsaid.

What's your definition of romantic? Romantic, to me, is the art of intentional tenderness. It’s the way someone listens with their whole body, remembers the smallest details, and chooses softness even when the world feels sharp. It’s the handwritten note tucked into a lunchbox.The way your name sounds when spoken slowly.The pause before a kiss, where everything feels possible.

“if you were born with the weakness to fall you were born with the strength to rise”

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? If you ever whispered to the universe, “I want to live where my spirit feels free,” Costa Rica might just echo back, “Welcome home.” Nestled between the Pacific and Caribbean coasts, this Central American gem offers more than postcard perfect beaches it offers a lifestyle rooted in joy, simplicity, and reverence for nature.

What's the coolest thing you've ever found (and kept)? The tenderest part of me is not loud.She doesn’t arrive with fireworks or declarations.She slips in quietly, like warm fabric against skin,like the hush between sobs,like the scent of lavender on a pillow that remembers. She shows up when I forget how to be strong.When my infamous self is raw, unfiltered, and aching.

What part of your routine do you always try to skip if you can? The sun rises and so do we, but not with toast in hand or a coffee to go. We rise with urgency. Breakfast? She’s a ghost. A beautiful idea I keep promising to honor tomorrow. I skip it not because I don’t care, but because I'm already halfway into the day before my body catches up.

Who is the most famous or infamous person you have ever met? The Most Infamous Person I Know? It’s me. Not the version that smiles politely or gets things done. I’m talking about the me I met during my Beautifully Unhinged phase—the one who cracked open and didn’t rush to seal the wound. She’s infamous for feeling too much, for turning breakdowns into rituals, for refusing to shrink into silence.

A raw reflection on the ache that reshapes us. This piece is for anyone who’s felt the silence after loss, the laughter that doesn’t make sense, and the slow, sacred process of becoming someone new.

She didn’t unravel quietly. She came undone like a hymn caught in a thunderstorm graceful, guttural, and gloriously wrong. There were no neat endings here, no polished apologies. Only the sound of silk tearing, the scent of fire blooming from her chest, and the kind of madness that felt like home.

What was your favorite subject in school? Back in the corridors of high school and even earlier, in the sunlit classrooms of my childhood, English was more than a subject. It was my sanctuary. While others groaned at essays and comprehension passages, I found refuge in the rhythm of words, the quiet power of punctuation, and the way a well placed metaphor could crack open a heart.

How do you manage screen time for yourself? It started with good intentions. I told myself I’d just check one thing an email, a comment, a quick scroll to see how my post was doing. But one tap became ten. One minute became forty. And suddenly, I was deep in a rabbit hole of reels, rituals, and random advice I didn’t ask for.