Skip to main content

From 150 Rejections to Building a Community: My Journey to Finding Real Opportunities

When I look back at where this journey started, I don’t see a success story. I see a young, brilliant social entrepreneur who was full of passion but had no map.



Like many of you, I had the ideas and the drive. I wanted to change my community. But I quickly hit a wall that felt insurmountable: I couldn’t access the funding or the learning opportunities I desperately needed to grow. For years, I worked in the dark, letting my lived experiences guide me. What started as a small spark back in 2015 has, through sheer stubbornness and a lot of hard lessons, slowly become the cornerstone of my work and ambition today.


But the road here wasn't smooth. It was paved with rejection slips.


I will never forget 2019. That year became a brutal classroom for me. I was so hungry for a breakthrough that I wrote over 150 proposals. One hundred and fifty. I spent countless nights researching, typing, and praying over these applications. And one by one, they came back as rejections.


It wasn't until much later that I understood the problem. It wasn't my passion that was lacking; it was my precision. My applications were basic. I wasn't speaking the language of the opportunities, and I didn't understand how to align my ideas with what the selectors were looking for.


That experience lit a fire in me. I realized that if I was struggling this much, there had to be thousands of other young people facing the same silent frustration.


That realization gave birth to ehub.forezava.org.


The hub is the bridge I wish I had in 2019. It’s a space designed to give youth like us a real-time view of the opportunities floating around us—grants, fellowships, and competitions—that we usually miss. But more than just listing them, we focus on the "how." We provide the important tips, the frameworks, and the insights needed to actually secure those opportunities. We teach you how to avoid the 150 rejections and land the one "Yes."


My story isn't unique because I succeeded; it's unique because I failed loudly and learned publicly.


If you want to understand the full scope of that journey—the raw moments, the lessons learned in the trenches, and the experiences that shaped this hub—I invite you to take a deeper dive into my life. You can read my story in my ebook, talesofmkavu.forezava.org, available for just 250 shillings.


Or, if you’re ready to stop applying blindly and want to start learning strategically, reach out to me directly. Let’s turn your passion into a fundable reality.


Visit ehub.forezava.org today and let’s grow together.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

When Good Intentions Fall Short: Reflections on Climate Resilience Projects in Vihiga

This week has been a whirlwind in Vihiga County. The Governor has been on the move, launching project after project—each meant to signal progress, resilience, and commitment to improving the lives of residents. On the surface, it feels like the county is on a steady path toward climate resilience and development. Bridges, irrigation schemes, and water projects are being unveiled with great promise. Take the Mutave–Jepses bridge in Hamisi, for instance. For years, residents have endured untold suffering trying to cross this dangerous spot that links Tambua Ward to Kisumu and Nandi Counties. Many lives have been lost there. Redeveloping it is a commendable step forward, yet questions linger. The cost—12 million shillings—has sparked debate, especially given that the structure resembles more of a box-culvert than a durable bridge with strong guard rails. Was it truly value for money, or another example of cutting corners where safety should be paramount? Credits: County Government of Vih...

Devolution Con: Vihiga Edition

The advent of devolution in Kenya strangely coincided with my university education. As a student at Masinde Muliro University in Kakamega County, I watched with wide-eyed curiosity as the new county governments grappled with their newfound power. In Kakamega, even the smallest development—like turning ghetto paths into proper roads or building mama mboga stalls—felt like a hopeful step forward. Meanwhile, back home in Vihiga County, my feelings were the exact opposite. The leadership seemed obsessed with short-term spectacles and quick photo opportunities, not a long-term vision. I sneered at the first county governor’s approach, dismissing it as directionless. Sadly, hindsight has proven me right—and then some. Photo Credits: The Standard Two terms and billions later, the story is depressingly familiar. Vihiga boasts of “stadiums” like Kidundu, Hamisi, and Mumboha—monuments not to sports, but to mediocrity. Millions were sunk into these facilities, only for them to resemble cattle m...

No Opportunities? Or just lazy, entitled Youth...

Yesterday, I rode a bicycle for over 25 kilometers . Not on some fancy cycling trail or in a city marathon, but through the rugged countryside, under a sky that seemed determined to drown me. The heavens opened wide, the rain poured, and within minutes, I was soaked to the bone. Mud splashed with every turn of the wheel, my legs burned, and every car that passed left me looking more like a stray dog than a man with purpose. Why endure all this? Because I was headed to meet a group of talented young people —people I have worked with for months, helping them shape ideas around technology and the lot into real enterprises. It was their meeting. They set it up. They picked the time. They picked the place. I showed up, dripping wet, hungry, exhausted… and alone (mostly). No calls. No messages. No apologies. Just silence. And yet, when the dust—or rather mud—settles, these are the same young people who will look at society and claim, “There are no opportunities for us.” The Myth of Limit...