Dear Younger Me,

I remember it like it was yesterday. Just after high school, at barely 18 years old, life handed me responsibilities bigger than I could imagine. My father entrusted me with his secondary school, expecting me to run it like a professional. I had no experience, no resources, only determination and a heart full of dreams.

In January, my dad gave me a crash course. He showed me the ropes of marketing, reception, teaching, managing staff, and handling students. Then, just a week later, he left for work elsewhere, leaving me in full control. I was alone at the helm, a teenager managing a whole school.

But life had lessons ready for me. The teacher I trusted in the office? Turned out he had other plans. He lured students away to another school for personal gain. Even the relative my dad had left in charge the previous year had done the same. January began with an empty school and a lot of work ahead. Parents came with inquiries, only to be misled. By February, most students had gone elsewhere. It hurt, but I learned quickly: you must stand firm, trust cautiously, and act decisively. My dad helped me remove that teacher, and slowly, we began rebuilding.

We started with only 18 students in Forms 1–4. I had barely any clothes to wear. I owned just one or two pairs of shoes and lived in humble conditions. But my father reminded me, “Don’t let your problems show.” Those words became my armor. Every role fell on me—I was teacher, principal, receptionist, cook, security, manager—all at once. I taught two subjects across all forms. I also did home schooling for a pregnant girl. Additionally, I worked tirelessly to keep the school running.

Marketing became my second life. From April to December, we knocked on doors, went to churches, villages, and towns, spreading the word about our school. Slowly, students returned. By January the next year, we had 50 students. The following years, 100, 150, 200, and eventually 250 students. Growth brought more classrooms, dorms, and even boarding facilities. Maasai families came with full trust. They paid fees for the year upfront. This allowed us to invest in the school—labs, libraries, halls, and eventually electricity.

Discipline, order, and excellence became non-negotiable. Classes were punctual, dorms and classrooms clean, staff accountable. Trips were carefully organized, always with the students’ growth and experience in mind—whether to theaters, children’s homes, or educational excursions. My heart was always in their development.

I even had the honor of attending high-profile meetings with DEO, DO, KNEC, and other officials. I was always the youngest principal in the room, but I earned respect through diligence and integrity.

Saturday boiled eggs and Sunday matumbo became school traditions. Prize-giving days were events I poured my heart into, celebrating students, teachers, and staff alike. Our students shone on GBS TV programs, proudly showcasing the fruits of our labor.

Eventually, the day came when I felt my mission was complete. I left the school, knowing I had transformed it from near-empty classrooms to a thriving institution. My father begged me to stay, but I knew it was time to carve my own path. That was how Kerry Designs Africa was born—out of vision, discipline, hard work, and faith.

Dear Younger Me, remember this: challenges are opportunities in disguise. Responsibility shapes character. Faith combined with effort always brings results. No matter how heavy the burden, your courage, creativity, and perseverance will carry you farther than you imagine.

With love and gratitude,
Your future self,
Sarah K. John