MY JOURNEY

THE VOICE I NEVER HAD I still remember the day I boarded that plane from Kenya to the United States. I had a degree, ambition, and a heart full of hope—but no idea how hard the journey ahead would be. The world I stepped into was cold, fast, and unfamiliar. I found myself taking credentialing classes, juggling multiple jobs, and learning new rules of life every single day. I worked in finance, the USDA, mortgage underwriting,yet deep inside, I kept asking myself a quiet question: Who speaks for us out here? I looked around and saw a community that had done everything right. We worked hard. Built homes. Built businesses. Sent money back home. Raised children between cultures. But when it came to the leaders and decisions shaping the place we still called “home,” we were ghosts,visible only when convenient, forgotten soon after. That silence bothered me. It followed me through boardrooms, long shifts, and even through the excitement of starting my own marketing and transportation businesses. Eventually, I realized something: that empty space, that missing voice… it was mine to fill. That’s how Diaspora News Radio was born, not as a project, but as a promise. A promise that never again would my community live in the shadows of decisions made without us. A promise that our stories, our sacrifices, and our children’s futures would no longer be overlooked. Today, when I speak into the microphone, I speak not for myself but for millions who have walked this same road. This platform is our bridge. Our seat at the table. Our reminder that diaspora voices matter. And I intend to make sure we’re never forgotten again.

BUILDING BRIDGES FROM THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY When I left home, I thought physical distance would be the biggest challenge. I was wrong. The hardest part was realizing that once you leave, you slowly disappear from the national conversation no matter how much you contribute. I watched leaders fly in for diaspora tours, shake hands, collect applause, and promise change. And every time, I watched them return home and slip back into business as usual. No accountability. No follow-through. Meanwhile, the diaspora continued building nations abroad while sustaining the one we left behind. I kept thinking: How can there be such a huge gap between us and the leadership we support? With every job I took whether sitting behind a desk at the USDA or reviewing mortgage files at First American Bank I kept returning to the same thought: “Someone needs to build a bridge.” Not a symbolic one, but a real platform where our concerns aren’t edited, sidelined, or ignored. Diaspora News Radio became that bridge. Here, I bring professionals together. I connect voices from around the world. We talk about health, heritage, safety, education, and investments. We celebrate our diversity and challenge our leaders back home to do better because we deserve better. This radio station is more than media; it’s a movement. A reminder that distance shouldn’t silence us. A reminder that our children deserve to inherit not just our dreams, but our identity. And most importantly, a reminder that leadership must answer to the people no matter where we live.

A SEAT AT THE TABLE I didn’t start Diaspora News Radio because I wanted to be a broadcaster. I started it because I was tired. Tired of watching hardworking diasporans being treated as if we are only good for remittances. Tired of seeing our expertise ignored. Tired of decisions made for us but never with us. My story is no different from many others. Graduating in Kenya, moving to the U.S., stumbling through culture shock, taking credentialing classes, working job after job until my feet knew exhaustion better than rest. But we survived. We thrived. We built careers, businesses, families, communities. Yet we still remained outside the room where decisions were made. One day, I told myself: Enough. If they won’t give us a seat at the table, I will build a new table. So Diaspora News Radio became that table, a place for honest conversations, tough questions, cultural pride, and community empowerment. Here, we approach leadership not with hostility but with expectation. We demand transparency. We elevate professionals. We teach our children where they come from. We share opportunities and protect our own. My dream is simple: That one day, no diaspora member will ever feel invisible. That our leaders will know we are watching, listening, and ready to speak. That our home country will grow stronger, not in spite of us, but because of us. Together, we are rewriting the narrative. Together, we are claiming our space. Together, we are saying to the world: We are here, we matter, and we will not be forgotten.