Professor Peter Ndiang’ui, Fort Myers, Florida

There is something unmistakably unique about being Kenyan. Whether it is our spirit, our culture, or the way we carry ourselves with confidence and grace, Kenyans all over the world seem to shine with a quiet pride that others easily notice. But sometimes, it is the smallest of symbols that speaks the loudest—and for many of us, that symbol is a simple yet powerful wristband.

Adorned in the bold colors of the Kenyan flag—black, red, green, and white—this wristband has become much more than an accessory. It is a statement. A connection. A silent introduction that speaks volumes about where we come from and who we are. For me, this humble wristband has been a passport to friendship, belonging, and unexpected opportunities.

I still remember vividly an experience from two years ago when my wife, Priscilla, and I visited the beautiful island of Santorini in Greece. As we wandered through the cobbled streets, soaking in the sunset views and the charm of the whitewashed buildings, a voice suddenly called out from the crowd: “Habari yako?” I turned to see a stranger smiling warmly—another Kenyan who had spotted my wristband. That single moment of recognition led to a beautiful connection and generous hospitality that made our visit even more special.

A similar encounter unfolded last year in a small town nestled between Liverpool and Manchester in the United Kingdom. Again, it was the wristband that broke the ice. A fellow Kenyan recognized the colors and reached out. In a place where we expected to be just tourists passing through, we ended up feeling like part of a larger family.

And the stories don’t end there. Just this year, during our trip to Ottawa, the wristband worked its magic once again. That subtle symbol of identity sparked a conversation which eventually led to my involvement in the International Indigenous Languages Summit (WAVES 2025). Not only was I invited, I also played a key role in the event. All because someone noticed that simple wristband and knew exactly what it represented.

These experiences have reminded me time and again: being Kenyan is something to be deeply proud of. We are a people known for our warmth, resilience, and unmistakable sense of identity. Whether we are in the heart of the city of Nairobi or in Mathakwaini Village in Nyeri or thousands of miles away, we carry Kenya with us; in our hearts, in our stories, and on our wrists.

So here is to the pride of being Kenyan. Here is to the wristband that quietly unites us across borders. And here is to every Kenyan out there making their mark, one encounter at a time.

True Pride Means Speaking Up

But make no mistake: this pride is not blind. It is because we love Kenya that we speak out. It is because we care that we criticize. It is because we believe in our country’s potential that we raise our voices when leaders fall short. Let no one confuse our concern for disloyalty. When Kenyans around the world say “Ruto Must Go,” we do not say it out of hate. We say it because we refuse to be silent while our beloved country is driven down a path of corruption, abductions, economic injustice, and impunity. We say it because the man at the top has brought shame that erodes our pride.

We say it because true patriotism is not passive. It is active. It holds leaders to account. It demands better for the people. Across the globe, Kenyans in the diaspora play a critical role in supporting our families, our communities, and the economy of our nation. Through remittances, we fuel education, health care, small businesses, and livelihoods. Through our advocacy, we push for transparency and reform. We complain because we care. We criticize because we believe Kenya can be better. We organize, we vote, we educate, and we give— all because we have not given up.

The Wristband Is Just the Beginning

That little wristband may be made of fabric, but it holds history. It carries stories. It carries the unspoken bond of millions of Kenyans around the world who know that being Kenyan is a responsibility, not just a title.

So here is to every Kenyan out there. The ones who represent us with pride. The ones who demand better. The ones who send money home and find time to push for justice. The ones who wear the wristband and the ones who wear Kenya in their heart. We are proud. We are loud. And we will never stop caring.

So here is to the pride of being Kenyan. Here is to the wristband that quietly unites us across continents. And here is to every Kenyan who carries a piece of home with them, wherever they go.