He came


Well, he came.

Our son came.

I am writing this from my bed, my back propped against pillows on the headboard. He breaths in steady and deep in his bassinet next to me, I can tell he is dreaming. I spent copious amounts of my afternoon moisturizing him with copious amounts of olive oil. I am especially proud of how I moisturized his three strands of hair. It is now slicked down the sides of his head, he looks like a mafia don.

He always has something hilarious going on with his lips. The way he purses them right now reminds me of Donald Trump, the way he would after firing someone on his reality show, ‘The Apprentice’. ‘You’re fired!’ [cue pursing of the lips]

Anyway, it rained on the weekend our son was born in September 2020. It had been sunny for all of the week until that Friday. By the time he was experiencing his first sunset on Earth, the skies hang low and the grey clouds huddled like an ominous affair. Our little boy snored away in my arms oblivious to whatever the universe was telling him.

He was still pink at the time, pink, puffy and puffed out from his birth at dawn.

I had secretly asked God for two things. One, that our son looks like me. Two, that motherhood be more fun with this second baby.

But God, ha-ha, you know God. God has a twisted sense of humour. (Dear God, I know you are reading this from your throne in the sky. I know you are slapping your thigh and stifling a chuckle because you know how you did me. You and I had made a gentleman’s agreement that this boy would be more of a Bett and less of a Kinyatti. What became of our agreement, huh?)

Get this: I suffered through a nasty first trimester with nausea, heartburn and needles from hormonal therapy. Second trimester had my belly swell up like an inflated balloon – I woke up one morning and couldn’t see anything below my belly button. Third trimester compounded the best and the worst of the first two trimesters.

His labour and birth were dramatic.

Never mind the 12-month hiatus I took from my career (the readers on my blog must believe I play them like a nyatiti).

I expected God to reward me for muscling through all that with a child that looks like me. Did He? Nope. The young boy came out looking like GB. He has their signature box head and that nose. A fleshy mound of a nose with generous nostrils. A nose that has a personality of its own. A nose that can smell trouble from all the way in Kaplong. A nose so African that… OK, you catch my drift. No more nose jokes, I promise.

Nonetheless it’s an adorable nose on his little face.

The only thing I can identify as mine is his fingernails. Long fingers with a lengthy nailbed. Beautiful hands. Soft and feminine. Hands that will give more than they will take.

What they didn’t give me with his looks they made up for with the experience of being a new mum. It is easier this second time. Much easier. I have hacked this baby. I can troubleshoot his cries. I have a plan. Mothering with Muna was about winging it. We came home from hospital and she looked at me as if to ask, ‘So, what’s the plan, Mummy?’ And I said to her, ‘You tell me, baby girl. What is the plan?’

Somewhere down the road she figured that I didn’t know what I was doing with her. And to be quite honest, I didn’t. No first-time mum knows what she is doing with her baby. What makes it the worse is that the baby picks up on this ineptitude, and they frustrate the hell out of each other. A crying baby and its crying mother, ha-ha.

Now I am calm and confident. Smart. Intuitive. I have read books. I have experience from round one. I have a personalised manual. And I am acing motherhood, my friend. Acing it!

Best thing is, my mind is still as sharp as a samurai’s sword. I mean, it has only been a month and I am already beating old deadlines with renewed vigour. With Muna my head was buried in motherhood for nine months after she was born. I lost all sense of self. My mind was stuffed with cotton balls. By the time I came up for air the world around me had changed so much that it had to reintroduce itself to me.

Our son’s name is Njeeh.

Welcome to the world, Njeeh. My kinsmen will hear your story and crown you the ultimate cheluget, the long awaited berurto and a chepkuinobor in our sky – a warrior, a blessing, a rainbow.

Post Malone
Early days: a Diary

Comments (22)

  1. jil

    Am happy for you.I tap on your blessings

    • Bett

      Asante sana. Blessings tapped right back to you <3

    • Bett

      Asante sana. Blessings tapped right back to you, Jil :)

  2. Judie Chirie

    Congratulations on the birth of Njeeh! Abundant blessings to you and y

  3. Karimi

    Great to read you! You have come back with a renewed vigour and extra fresh creativity. This was a joy to read. Keep on writing.

    • Bett

      Thanks, thanks and thanks, Karimi! I still read your pieces in the Nation.

  4. Nyawira

    She’s back!That’s the comment. 😁

  5. Mercy Kambura

    I missed you! I peeped here every so often to see if anything has been birthed yet, and it seems something (someone?) was in the process of being birthed. Welcome back, Bett, and welcome to the world, Njeeh.


    • Bett

      Happy to be back, Mercy! You mean that one-view-daily was from you? Hahha. Thanks for, uhm, waiting while we laboured :)

  6. Moraa

    Welcome to the world Njeeh.

  7. Lorraine Odhiambo

    Great to have you back Flora! And Congratulations on your new bundle! Yay!

    • Bett

      Thanks a boatful, Lorraine! Yaani that ‘Flora’ name takes me way way back. Hehhe.

  8. kuimichelle

    I’m so happy Bett! Congratulations! Karibu sana Njeeh!

  9. Julianne

    Awww congratulations Bett! What a beautiful piece! Soo happy for you girl. God bless the little one

    • Bett

      Thanks and thanks, Julianne! Much love to your little one as well.

  10. Wambui

    Such awesomeness 💕 Warm welcome to Muna’s little brother

  11. Tuape

    Good to have back, Bett. A hearty welcome to Njeeh.

    • Bett

      Thank you so much, Tuape! There’s that email of yours from sijui when, ha-ha. Now that I have the strength to match your storytelling, I will respond to it.

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Florence Bett-Kinyatti


Columnist Saturday Nation Writer Craft It Author of best-selling ‘SHOULD I?’ and ‘HOW MUCH?’ ~ Guiding word: Overdrive Subscribe to our Newsletter👇🏾 eepurl.com/igmN8P
  • Dear God, 
It’s me again.

I don’t pray as often as I need to, You know that. I don’t kneel by my bed in child-like humility, as Muna does. I don’t whisper a prayer in the morning. Or at noon. Perhaps just in the evening. 

This going-to-church habit is a constant false start. So is reading the Word. 

I’m often guilty but I also know: You and I have a language only we can understand. 

I speak to You through this gift You bestowed upon my Kale shoulders, this gift to write in colour. It’s a gift that sometimes feels like a curse, a burden I have no choice but to pursue. 

Yet other times – most times, actually – it’s the very breath of my essence. Everyday I sit to write, when the words flow from my head and heart through my fingers to the page, I feel You next to me. 

You are here, Lord. Hovering. Lingering. Swooshing about in Your regal robes, like a character from Bridgerton.

Sometimes You get so close I can feel You breathing on my neck and I’m like, ‘Err, God, do You mind, personal space?’

And You chuckle uncomfortably. ‘He-he, of course. Of course.’

I’m here to tell You, Thanks!

I hosted my first in-person event last March, Lord, thank You to all the lovely ladies who granted me their time and full attention. 

I’ve carried them in my heart since and every day, my prayer is that You bring them closer to the life of abundance they each seek. To their own version of wealth. 

I always call them by their name: Becky. Purity. Lindsay. Wangui. Naomi. Shiqow. Mercy. Liz. Winnie. Polly. Nduta. Lynet. 

And Mike. 

Dear Lord, I’m prepping for my next in-person event in June, Inshallah. 

Walk with me as I get there. 

Love always,

  • Highlights from our first-ever in person event hosted by Craft It and @financialfitbit 
Thanks to all the lovely ladies — and gent, hehe — who honoured us with the privilege of their time and attention. And colourful energy. It’s been weeks since and it’s only now that I’m coming down from the high. 

Thank YOU!

🎥 @mikemuthaka 

#craftit #author #MakeYourMoneyMatter #personalfinance #money
  • I am a woman.

I’m strong. I’m brilliant. I’m like a comet shooting across the sky, I’m so bright you have to put on shades to see me.

I’m almost 40, I’m almost fully realising myself as a woman and the power of womanhood I possess.

I’m so powerful that if KPLC connected me to the national grid, I’d power up this country and we’d never have another blackout.

Ho! Ho! Ho!


To recognize and celebrate International Women’s Day today, I’d like to recognize and celebrate eight women.

I have eight things to give away to each of these women:
a) Two tickets to my upcoming event on March 18 with @financialfitbit Theme is ‘Make your money matter’
b) Three autographed copies of my book ‘Should I?’
c) Three autographed copies of my other book ‘How Much?’

To participate:
1. Like this post
2. Tag women who deserve a win of either event ticket or book (tag as many women as you like)
3. Tell us what you’d like her to win and why she deserves the win
4. Make sure your tagged women follow @_craftit and @financialfitbit 

Here are the rules for the giveaway:
— One woman, one win
— Winners will be contacted via DM
— Giveaway closes at the end of this week, Inshallah, on Sunday 12 March
— Only open to people living in Kenya

All the best!

(Swipe right to see the women I’m celebrating.)

#craftit #internationalwomensday
  • My 2022 word of the year was Wholesome. 

Wholesome meant engaging in moderation and in pursuits that didn’t leave me feeling yucky.

An example: there’re weekend nights I’d go out then have too much to drink. On the drive home, I’d tell GB to stop the car every half mile so I could throw up on the side of the road. Then I’d take three working days recovering. 


No more of that nonsense.

Now I have only two doubles of Singleton whiskey and chase it with water. I eat less food and I eat better. I take my supplements. I treat myself to an early bedtime and arise with my body clock, no alarm.

I spend a lot more time hanging with my kids, Muna and Njeeh. 

I buy fewer things. 

I play the piano. 

I created a disciplined routine for my work and take Thursdays off. 

You catch my drift…

Wholesome has become my lifestyle. 

(By the way, I was asked, ‘Where does this word-of-the-year come from, Bett?’ I don’t know about other people but for me, the words present themselves when I’m journaling. My spirit tells me what it needs; I must be still enough to listen and brave enough to obey.)

My word for 2023 is Overdrive.

My two books have unlocked new opportunities for me as a writer and creative. As an urban brand. I’d honestly not foreseen them. 

I know that if I adjust my sails to where the wind is blowing, these opportunities will translate to wealth.

Last Friday, I listed all the work I’m already doing and all the new opportunities – potential and realised – knocking at my door.

I asked myself, ‘What am I taking up here and what am I dropping?’

The response, ‘None – we go into overdrive and smartly pursue them all.’

#craftit #urbanguide
  • Years ago, my best friend said to me, ‘Bett, we’re almost 40 – forget makeup, let’s take care of our skin instead.’

I had to laugh because this was coming from Terry. Terry my Kisii pal, this fine gyal with skin the colour of honey, the only practising SDA in my circle. 

Terry had spent her 20s and early 30s sleek with Arimis. That’s right, the milking jelly with a lactating cow on its logo. 

Arimis addressed all her skin pickles back then. It was her problem fixer. Her Olivia Pope. It’s the one thing that always said, It’s handled.

Now here she was preaching to us about a consistent skincare regimen in the AM and PM.


It wasn’t until Terry shared her selfies on our girls WhatsApp group that I stopped laughing. It wasn’t until we stood next her – and took these selfies – that I reeally stopped laughing: Terry’s skin was youthful and toned, plump. Hydrated. Moistured but not shiny. 

It looked like it had been kissed by the Greek goddess of radiance. 

So we gathered around her feet and said, ‘Forgive us, master. We are ready now. Teach us everything you know.’

She did. 

Terry and I now spend plenty of time before work and before bed squeezing out little portions of expensive skincare products from expensive tubes, we layer them on our face in a calculated measure.

This serum here is for the circles under my eyes and the fine lines around my mouth.

Turns out I’ve been giving away too much of my face: I’ve been looking too hard, laughing too easily.

I’ll have to spend the next year into my 40s with my eyes half shut and laughing little. I'll have a resting bitch face.

Don’t blame me, blame the retinol.

And age.

#craftit #urbanguide #urbangirl
  • I’m Bett. I’m the author of your favourite books about money. I’m hosting an in-person event in March, Inshallah: This is my personal invite to you.

#craftit #moneymaker #moneyinkenya
  • I am hosting my first money event this March, Inhsallah. It’s the first of quarterly events I have planned for the year. 

(Give me a moment here so I pull myself together long enough to write this. I’m smiling very hard right now, ha-ha, I look like a donkey.)


The event will be in-person. On a Saturday morning, a loose three hours which, I am certain, you’d have burned on some other pursuit you couldn’t account for later. (I’d probably be oiling the hinges of a squeaky door or decluttering my sock drawer.)

My guest host for this edition is Lynet Kyalo. 

Lynet is a personal finance coach under her brand @financialfitbit She also hosts @getyourbagrightpodcast 

Buy your tickets from our Market.

Early bird tickets are discounted until the end of this month.

Limited slots available. 

#craftit #millenialmoney #moneyevent #moneymaker
  • Sometimes I sit down and read my own book. 

Odd, huh?

Reading my own stories is like an out-of-body experience. Or getting introduced to myself again. An outward journey inward.

It’s fascinating.

I also read because I need to improve my writing for my next project.

We call them the Elements of Craft: things like sentence structure and punctuation, word placement, story length etc, they all inform your reading experience.

This is what makes the book easy to read, and has you turning the pages.

Cop your autographed copy and #betteryourmoney 

#craftit #howmuch #millenialmoney #moneymaker

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