Author: Wambui

Every day behind the counter, I witness the slow and painful unraveling of what we once called public service. The system failure in Kenya is not theoretical—it is personal. It walks through our doors in the eyes of the elderly, the sick, the poor, and the desperate. It whispers through their sighs and settles in their silences.

While many come in with hope, they often leave with heavier hearts—uncertain, unheard, and sometimes worse off than when they arrived.

What Is System Failure—and How Does It Show Up?

A system is a structure of people, processes, tools, and rules meant to make life easier and fairer.

When one part breaks—such as communication, policy, or platform—the whole thing collapses. That’s when system failure happens.

It shows up in many ways:

• Patients are told “the system is down” and sent away
• Mothers give up after their files are repeatedly lost
• Frontline workers try to serve without the tools they need

System Failure That Silences the Truth

System failure isn’t always quiet.

Recently, a young man—an only child and a father of one—was taken from his father’s home by police and later found dead. Why? For sharing content online that exposed government corruption.

He didn’t steal. He didn’t harm anyone. He told the truth. The very system that was supposed to protect him became his enemy.

This tragedy mirrors the story of Albert Ojwang, a teacher and blogger who died in police custody after criticizing police leadership. His case drew national protests and demands for justice.

📎 Read more: Kenyan blogger’s wife seeks answers after his death in police custody (Reuters)

System Failure in Everyday Service – The SHA Example

One of the clearest examples of service breakdown is the new SHA annual payment system.

Previously, people could pay health insurance premiums monthly. Now, the revised system demands a full year’s payment upfront. Although “Lipa Pole Pole” exists as an alternative, many Kenyans avoid it. For some, it feels like a trap into debt. For others, trust in repayment plans simply doesn’t exist.

As a result, countless customers walk away in despair. I’ve heard them say, “Let me just die. I can’t afford this.” These are not just isolated complaints—they are signs of a public system that’s failing to meet its promise.

Real Lives Devoured by System Failure

System failure isn’t just about headlines. It’s the mother walking home without help. It’s the elderly woman crying at a desk. It’s the tired public servant trying to serve while navigating chaos.

I wrote more about this emotional weight in a past post:
📎 When You Can’t Meet Expectations: The Heavy Price of Disappointing Customers

What Can Be Done to Stop System Failure?

We can’t patch a sinking ship with silence.

To stop system failure, we must:

• Educate the public before implementing changes
• Train and equip frontline staff
• Open feedback and complaint channels
• Protect whistleblowers and digital activists
• Include real citizens in system design

But more than plans and platforms, systems need goodwill.

When the people designing systems truly care, they:

• Listen to the ground truth
• Show up when people are hurt
• Acknowledge flaws and fix them
• Lead with empathy, not control

Goodwill is not a luxury in governance—it is the soul of public service. Without it, even the best systems fall.

Final Thoughts: System Failure Is a Human Crisis

To every customer who has walked away feeling invisible, to every family grieving a loved one taken by silence, and to every public servant doing their best inside a broken system—keep going.

Let it be a voice reminding us that system failure is not just technical—it’s emotional, political, and deeply human.

And the longer we normalize it, the more it grows.

One of the most unpredictable parts of working in customer care is handling unstable customers — especially when you’re unsure whether they’re simply distressed or potentially dangerous. Today, I had a chilling, confusing, yet eye-opening encounter that reminded me how much mental health impacts both those we serve and those of us behind the desk.

She came in quietly, but I could tell something was off. Her appearance was disheveled. Her speech — jumbled, barely coherent. I froze. It’s a reaction I’ve had before around people I suspect may be mentally unstable. I wasn’t sure if I was safe.

My body went on alert. Handling unstable customers was never part of my training. But here I was, face to face with a woman who clearly wasn’t okay — and all I could do was listen.

When Mental Health Walks In

Mental health is a delicate, often unspoken issue in many Kenyan workplaces. But it’s even more complex when it shows up unannounced at your desk.

She kept talking. Her words — mostly disconnected thoughts and stories — spilled out rapidly. I didn’t catch much, and honestly, I didn’t know what to say. I was afraid. I tried keeping my distance, fearing she might hit or lash out, but she kept drawing closer.

At some point, I gave up trying to “handle” her in the traditional sense. I realized I was being invited into a different kind of service moment — one not guided by procedure or customer etiquette, but by human presence. I simply stood there, and listened.

📘 Related Read: If you’ve ever struggled with how to respond during emotional conversations, Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman offers powerful insights on awareness, empathy, and response under pressure.

It reminded me deeply of the power of listening in customer care — how listening, even without understanding, can offer healing to someone who feels invisible.

Mental Health Awareness Belongs in Every Office

Truthfully, I wasn’t ready for it. Handling unstable customers comes with emotional and psychological risks most people don’t see. We, the frontline workers, often absorb people’s chaos without anyone asking if we’re okay afterward.

The woman continued to speak until, quite suddenly, she said, “Let me go before I’m found here.” And with that, she vanished as quickly as she had arrived.

That one line — “before I’m found here” — haunted me. Who was she hiding from? Where had she come from? What kind of life is she returning to? These are the questions that linger after such encounters — questions that no training manual ever prepares you for.

If you’re in customer care in Kenya, you’ve likely had your own moments like this. That’s why I feel so strongly about customer etiquette at the front desk. Because when customers approach us with basic dignity, it helps us serve even better — especially in intense situations.

Lessons I Learned About Handling Unstable Customers

This was more than just another workday. It was a test in fear, empathy, and restraint. Here are some key lessons I took away from this encounter on handling unstable customers:

1. Be Cautious, But Not Cold

It’s okay to be afraid. Safety comes first. But don’t let fear dehumanize the person in front of you.

2. Listening Is Sometimes Enough

You won’t always have the right response. That’s okay. Being present and silent can offer more peace than words.

3. Your Mental Health Matters Too

Encounters like this don’t end when the customer leaves. Take time to process, reflect, or talk to someone about what you experienced.

🧠 Helpful Read: The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk explains how trauma and emotional strain affect our minds and bodies — even in everyday interactions.

4. Mental Health Awareness Is Crucial

We must normalize mental health conversations in our workplaces. Kenya has made steps in this area through the Kenya Mental Health Policy 2015–2030 which outline strategies for awareness, integration, and service improvement.

Handling Unstable Customers Is About More Than Patience

According to the World Health Organization, mental health support in workplaces is critical. It’s time we recognized that handling unstable customers is more than just part of the job — it’s an emotional experience that demands attention, support, and training.

Final Thought

Today, I didn’t assist someone with a form or service. I simply offered space to someone who needed to be seen. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t clean. But I believe it mattered.

So if you’re on the frontlines, know this: your ability to remain human in the face of unpredictability is your superpower.

And if you’re ever in doubt, just listen. Sometimes, that’s all someone really needs.

For years, my blogging journey lived quietly inside my dreams. It began in high school, where books were my escape, entertainment, and education. I devoured everything—the school set book The River and the Source (which I reread countless times), thrilling novels by John Grisham, glamorous stories by Jackie Collins, and the emotionally intense works of Danielle Steel, although many were too heavy for my teenage heart.

Our high school library was my second home. At home, my mum’s Parents Magazine was a monthly treat. My dad made sure every weekend came with a copy of The Saturday Nation—no newspaper, no weekend. I read Lifestyle, Young Nation, and even the politics pages. And oh—who remembers those small Reader’s Digest magazines? They were my favourite too—tiny packages of wisdom, humor, and short stories that could brighten an entire afternoon.

That’s where my blogging journey began to take shape—inspired by storytelling, headlines, and the power of words.

From Customer Care Desks to Content Creation

Over the years, I found myself in the world of customer care—receptionist, secretary, front office assistant, even running my own small business. These experiences became part of my blogging journey, teaching me about people, patience, and purpose.

I reflect on those lessons in my blog, like my time at a microfinance office where I learned the quiet strength in listening, or working as a cashier on Kenyatta Avenue where I discovered how customer care often extends beyond transactions.

But my career path wasn’t without bumps. One of my most important lessons came during a period I shared in Handling Unstable Customers in Customer Care Kenya—learning to remain calm, even when a situation seemed impossible.

When a Friend Rekindled the Dream

Then, life changed. I lost my job. The routine ended. With bills to pay and uncertainty ahead, I had to ask: What now?

I turned to the internet and began chasing freelance writing jobs. I signed up on platforms like Upwork and Fiverr, but quickly realized that even getting started required strategy, patience, and perseverance.

Content mills promised quick pay, but they offered barely Ksh 200 per article. You’d write, revise endlessly, and still not hit the payout minimum. My spirit felt stretched thin.

Just when I thought I’d hit a dead end, a long-lost high school friend—who remembered my love for books—reached out. “Why don’t you start writing again?” she asked.

That single nudge rekindled something deep inside me. I decided to stop waiting for someone to give me a writing job—and create my own platform instead.

Building Lobby Reflections

💡 From reader to writer—that’s the heart of my blogging journey.

I officially began by setting up my blog, Lobby Reflections. The name came naturally—after years of manning lobbies, front desks, and reception areas, I wanted to reflect on customer care stories, moments of growth, and everyday inspiration.

Starting the blog was both exciting and overwhelming. I had to buy a domain, figure out hosting, learn WordPress, and dive into the world of SEO. I discovered things like meta descriptions, LCP optimization, internal linking, and image compression. Blogging today isn’t just about writing—it’s about creating content that’s searchable, crawlable, and valuable.

And some days, motivation doesn’t come easily. I shared this in Blogging With Zero Motivation in Kenya—a reminder that persistence matters even more than inspiration.

Every step feels worth it because my blogging journey is mine. It’s no longer a dream—I’m doing it, one post at a time.

Books That Shaped My Blogging Journey

My love for books never left me. These titles helped ignite and sustain my blogging journey:

• The River and the Source – Margaret Ogola
• Awaken the Giant Within – Tony Robbins
• Why You Act the Way You Do – Tim LaHaye
• Rich Dad Poor Dad – Robert Kiyosaki
• The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown
• Novels by John Grisham, Jackie Collins, Danielle Steel
• Parents Magazine – my early non-fiction favorite
• Reader’s Digest – small but powerful, my first taste of compact storytelling

These stories reminded me that everyone starts somewhere. Whether it’s a courtroom thriller or a motivational guide, the right book at the right time can light a lifelong fire.

Tools and Resources I Use in My Blogging Journey

Along the way, I’ve discovered that tools matter. Here are some that keep me going:

• Logitech Wireless Keyboard and Mouse – for comfortable long writing sessions.
• Blue Yeti USB Microphone – perfect for recording blog-based podcasts or voice notes.
• Seagate 2TB External Hard Drive – because losing drafts is not an option.
• Atomic Habits by James Clear – a must-read for building consistent habits, including writing.

(Affiliate links – I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you if you purchase through these links.)

Where My Blogging Journey Is Headed

Today, I’m not just blogging—I’m building. I plan to:

• Share affiliate product reviews that help my audience
• Highlight my cleaning and dera businesses as part of my entrepreneurial story
• Offer reflections and insights for others who are starting over

My blogging journey is about reclaiming my voice. It’s about creating value for readers, owning my story, and building income streams I control.

I also want my blog to be a space where someone can come for encouragement—whether they’re dealing with burnout, starting over, or wondering if it’s too late to try.

Final Thoughts

If you’re standing at the edge of your own idea, wondering if you can begin—don’t wait. Just begin. My blogging journey started with uncertainty too, but now it gives me purpose, direction, and a reason to keep learning.

Your journey might not look like mine. It might involve late nights after work, early mornings before the kids wake up, or stolen lunch breaks. But it’s yours—and it’s worth telling.

📩 Have you started yours? Share your story in the comments or email me at lobbyreflections@gmail.com.