Remote working offers one of the best freedoms a professional can claim. In my prime, I would plan drafts in my Simba, windows down, Nakuru's breeze mixing with Nyashinski's Marathon Runner on repeat. I'd refine those same pieces in Naivasha, zebras grazing just beyond the fence, coffee cooling beside my laptop. Final edits happened wherever I landed-an SGR lounge, Uhuru Park, a friend's couch, a quiet corner before submission. That was my office. That was my rhythm.
For years, I built something rare: a thriving freelance writing career that rose through platforms like Upwork, graduated beyond content mills, and eventually sustained itself through direct referrals. I chose projects that sparked curiosity. I worked in whatever felt comfortable, Papi Clever & Dorcas harmonizing through my headphones, accountability measured not by attendance but by output. No one watched me clock in. My reputation was my timecard: clear communication, reliability, and quality delivered whether I was in pajamas or a 3D hood.
The world shifted, as it does. 2021/22 brought the pandemic's uncertainty. 2023/24 introduced AI and AI detectors that questioned human craftsmanship. Then the ‘Gen Z’ protests of 2024/25 reshaped the conversation.
Although the protests were nationwide, youth-dense areas like Thika Road Roysambu, Karatina, Kitengela, Nakuru, etc., drew intensified scrutiny. Beyond unrest, there were internet slowdowns, power interruptions, and a growing sense that online-active youth were being singled out through heavy-handed policing and unexplained abductions.
Combined with lost income and mounting debts, this felt like the last straw, forcing many of us to seek alternative paths.
After months of tarmacking and navigating unsuccessful job searches, I stepped into a safety and security role. The transition was stark:
from choosing my environment to adapting to one, from solo execution to real-time teamwork, from creative independence to procedural adherence. Yet the foundation holds. The same reliability that kept clients returning now ensures I meet shift requirements.
The same learning agility that let me master unfamiliar topics for articles now helps me absorb SOPs, situational awareness protocols, and the intricate dance between technology, policy, and human behavior.
The learning curve was steep. Today, I read/watch/research and write about threat assessment methodologies, observe how professionals read environments, write documentation that prevents harm procedures, incident reports, and training materials. Same tools, transformed context.
Yet, there's pride in this adaptability-not the loud kind, but the quiet confidence of knowing I can learn fast, observe keenly, and reset across systems. I can navigate both the unstructured creative sprint and the methodical onsite profession.
The structured role fulfills something I didn't know I needed: tangible impact, immediate accountability, the texture of teamwork, a reason to show up when my own momentum failed me. Yet my foundation remains in those freelance rhythms-the curiosity, the craft, the independence of thought. I haven't left that world; I've expanded into another.
© 2025
David Kiboi Since 2019