Simon Njuguna Muchiri 30M

When I graduated from campus four years ago, I walked out of the gates with a fresh degree in Procurement and Logistics Management and a heart full of ambition. Like many graduates, I imagined jumping straight into a career that matched my specialization. Life, however, had different plans. I eventually found myself working with Global Fast Fit-a space centred around health, fitness, community, and impact. It was a world far from what I had pictured for myself academically. Over time, I settled into the rhythm of the work, slowly convincing myself that my degree would become just another framed document on the wall. Interesting, but irrelevant. I was wrong. Earlier this year, everything shifted. I was asked to take charge of logistics operations for GFF Kenya. The moment the announcement was made, something clicked. Suddenly, concepts I had studied years ago began resurfacing-procurement strategies, supplier management, cost analysis, quality checks, risk handling. It was as if my academic life had been quietly waiting for its cue. And it didn’t stop there. I was soon placed at the helm of one of the most exciting projects I’ve ever handled: the renovation and rebuilding of the GFF Wellness Centre in Lanet. This wasn’t just another building-this would become the national nerve centre for all GFF activities in Kenya. From the very first day on-site, I felt the weight and thrill of responsibility. I inspected materials, negotiated with suppliers, coordinated labour teams, and ensured every step aligned with timelines and budgets. Beyond the technical work, there was the human side-mobilizing nomads, keeping the energy high, and taking ownership of the project. Every task reminded me that skills don’t disappear; they simply wait for the right opportunity to shine. The long days in class, the endless notes, the group assignments-they were not wasted after all. They were preparing me for this moment. Standing on that construction site, hearing the buzz of tools and seeing progress take shape brick by brick, I realized something profound: sometimes your path bends, pauses, or even detours, but it still leads you exactly where your strengths can thrive. Working with Global Fast Fit hasn’t just advanced my career-it has reshaped my purpose. It has taught me that growth isn’t always loud or instant. Sometimes it happens quietly, in the background, until one day you’re finally given the space to rise. And when that moment comes, everything you’ve learned-every skill, every lesson-finally makes sense.

Who is an Athlete? An athlete is not simply someone who runs fast, jumps high, or lifts heavy. An athlete is a person who dares to push their limits-someone who willingly steps into discomfort in pursuit of a version of themselves that ordinary effort could never create. For some people, this capacity seems to come naturally. For others, it must be discovered, shaped, nurtured, and guided. But regardless of how it begins, athletic potential lies quietly in many hearts, waiting for the right moment-and the right mentor-to awaken it. When Global Fast Fit was introduced in Kenya, no one could have predicted the magnitude of the impact it would have, especially on children. And among the very first symbols of this impact was a little girl many people barely knew: Anita. At just four years old, Anita was introduced to the GFF routine by her uncle, Kairu, who saw something extraordinary in her. While most children were still learning coordination, she was mastering movements, counting reps, and showing discipline that surprised even adults. At five years old, she did what many grown athletes struggle to achieve-she completed a verified GFF standard routine. She didn’t just complete it; she excelled, outperforming numerous adults who had been training longer than she had. It’s easy to forget she was barely out of preschool. Today, at six, newly graduated to grade one, her journey is only beginning. She carries the pride of being the GFF Mascot, but beyond that, she carries the promise of a bright, limitless future. But Anita is not the only star rising quietly; In the same school, in the same grade, in the same age group, there was another child whose talent was hidden in plain sight-Ethan. He was soft-spoken, almost unnoticed, until one day during a GFF-sponsored music class, a teacher handed him a flute. What happened next shocked everyone. The notes flowed not like something he was learning, but like something he had always known. No one expected him to master it so quickly, let alone stand on a national stage and win the National Music Festivals in his category. Yet he did-proof that talent does not ask for permission before revealing itself. These two incredible children—one in athletics, one in music—carry a deeper message. Talent is Everywhere. Opportunity is Not. Kenya is full of gifted children in classrooms, playgrounds, churches, and remote villages. Some can run. Some can draw. Some can lead. Some can build. Some can think with remarkable sharpness. But the world may never know their names if no one takes the time to look closely. What Anita and Ethan show us is simple yet powerful: Talent needs a witness.Potential needs a mentor.A dream needs someone who believes in it before it is fully visible. If Kairu had not believed in Anita at four years old, we might never have seen her shine. If the GFF-sponsored music classes had not existed, Ethan might never have touched a flute. These moments—small, ordinary, easily forgettable—are the sparks that ignite greatness. There are many more “Anitas” and “Ethans” among us. Children waiting to be noticed. Talents waiting to be guided. Futures waiting to be shaped. The question is: Are we paying attention?Are we creating opportunities?Are we mentoring deliberately? Because every athlete starts as a child with curiosity. Every champion begins as someone who just needed a chance. And every great story begins with someone who believed early enough. The future of Kenyan athletics, music, art, innovation, and leadership is already among us-walking to school, playing in the dust, humming in class, skipping rope in the yard. All they need is someone to spot the spark and gently fan it into a flame. Talent is not rare. Mentorship is.And that’s where the difference is made.