Nine Months In: On Curve Balls, Closed Gates & Carrying On

From field work to family walks. Catching life’s curveballs with grace and the occasional afternoon snooze. 😴

Recently, I drove past House #81 on the UN Crescent Avenue.

The Gate is Still Black.

Unchanged. But hanging on it now, a bold “To Let” sign. Quietly announcing that the space we once filled with ideas, spreadsheets, laughter, and learning was… vacant.

*Endless calls — always on the hook, on duty*

Behind the gate is an office block that used to be my daily ~~detention~~ destination. Now just a gate with a sign. But the stories inside? Still very much with me.

Inside those walls, I reviewed and analysed data. Hosted virtual meetings. Planned quarterly learning sessions. Facilitated training. And worked alongside a team that I (now) miss dearly.

*Project launch — teamwork met brilliance*

The parking lot @Village Market? It’s still full. Life, it seems, didn’t stop when our project did.

I strolled the UN Crescent Avenue.

Exchanged nods with familiar security guards @IOM and the Italian Embassy. The same ones who once smiled or waved during my afternoon walks, to clear my head.

It was the first time I was in these environs in months. The air felt different, but comforting.

Seasons change. And so must we.

Work Trips and Watering Spinach

I miss the purposeful chaos of fieldwork.

Especially the quarterly trips to Mogadishu. The thrill of connecting with colleagues. I’m grateful for a career that took me from the office desk to dusty field trips, and the wild at staff retreats.

I assessed project progress.

Shared milestones over strong coffee and hot weather. Today, my life is unrecognizable. But not unloved.

My mornings now begin with breakfast with my wife.

Followed by a short walk to the matatu stage.

We part ways like a couple from Maisha Magic’s Telenovela ‘Lulu‘. Then, I return home to water our kitchen garden. The herbs, and marvel at the spinach that refuses to die.

*Growing greens and grains — therapy by hand*

This season, we had a bumper harvest of grains and veges. Thanks to the generous rains. Maize or spinach, anyone? 🤷‍♂️

During August holidays, we then did family devotions with the kids. A daily mix of reflection, scripture, and shouts of “He started it!”

Then it’s a pick-your-own-adventure.

After breakfast and devotion, we read books. Play draughts (checkers). Kick football around the compound.

I scroll through social media. Looking for inspiration or a story worth writing about.

Mid-morning, I blog. Or I try to.

The blog that resonated with most readers recently was a deeply personal one:

When Love Burns: Living Through the Fire of a Spouse’s Mental Breakdown

It revisited my parent’s courageous journey through love, heartbreak, and the unseen weight of mental illness.

Thank you for reading, sharing, and sitting with such tender truth.

Lunch is now a family affair.

It’s one of the few perks of being around when the kids are home on school holidays. Post-lunch? I nap. Because this is one luxury the 8-to-5 routine never afforded.

*Cycling through Hell’s Gate — where views are heavenly*

Joy in the Ordinary

Afternoons find me scouring job boards and queuing up applications.

I reach out to friends. Because connection is therapy and cheaper than a shrink. Occasionally, I call family. Not just for updates. But, to remember that I’m still part of something bigger.

*Out and about with my dad and brothers*

Around 4:00 PM. I’m sweating through a Tabata dance session. Led by my daughter, who is suspiciously more disciplined than her coach (me).

Then, dinner prep.

My wife returns. We debrief, over chapatis and chuckles. We watch some TV. Njoro wa Uber, for me and Are We There Yet?, for the kids. Then it’s bedtime. The cycle repeats.

Of Interviews, Promises & Persistence

Nine months in, I’ve had applications ignored.

Applied for 130 jobs 😮
Received 29 regrets (22%)😢
Interviewed for 5 roles (4%) 😊

Some third-round interviews turned into ghost stories. Hope sometimes packs its bags without warning.

I recently visited the bank. Not for inspiration 😆. It’s a scary thing to do, when you have obligations 😱. Bills pile up. They don’t take a sabbatical.

While chopping tomatoes 🍅. My teenage son, who qualified for 2025 Kenya National Chess Championships asked me;

“Why are you keen on me going for the competitions? Yet we should be saving money, more than spending.”

Children notice pain. Family feels pressure. When loss lingers, faith gets tested. Not just yours, but everyone’s around you.

Job’s wife urged him to ‘Curse God and die!’

And yet, here I am…

Still showing up. Still catching the curveball life threw at me in January 2025. Still choosing hope. Still choosing joy.

Still standing. Because God remains

To every colleague and friend navigating this strange uncertain season.

Especially those affected by the USAID shutdown. I see you. Some days we rise with energy. Other days we withdraw from the light. But we carry on.

If you enjoyed this reflection on life’s curveballs, you might also like my other related blogs:

A lighter look at how unexpected turns can spark unexpected lessons and growth.

Let’s Catch Up

If you are in transition too… Let’s 📞 or 💬.

Whether you are job hunting. Pausing. Pivoting. Or just taking stock. I’d love to hear your story. What does your “new normal” look like?

What (black) gates or (green) gardens are you discovering? In the silence, the space, or the slowness.

Let’s keep each other going. We owe it to ourselves and the generations after us. Thank God, it’s nine months. Not nine years! 🤣

📌#NineMonthsIn #PurposeInPause #CurveballsAndClosedGates #CareerTransitions #HopeAndHustle #FaithFamilyFuture #LifeAfterProjects

Joseph Ngaara is inspired by people’s life experiences. Do you have an intriguing life story and need to share your triumph or tragedy? Email: j.mungai@hotmail.co.uk

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