22/04/2025
The Flight That Never Took Off
By: By Martin K. Murithi
Page 1.
The game was called SkyVault - a sleek app with a dark-blue interface, where a glowing vault rose higher
and higher into the sky. The longer it ascended, the more your money multiplied. But wait too long, and it
exploded mid-air, taking your bet with it.
You had to tap out in time.
It was addictive. Ruthless.
And for Marion Wanjiru, it became the moment that broke her life.
She was 28 when everything fell apart.
A quiet, polite woman from Meru, Marion worked behind the desk at InfoConnect Cyber, a modest shop
squeezed between a barbershop and an M-Pesa outlet. The walls were lined with passport photos and job
application forms. There was a hum of printers and the occasional radio static from Kameme FM playing in
the background.
She wasn't rich, but she was stable. Trusted. The type you'd ask to watch your handbag or mind your stall
while you ran to the bathroom.
That's why, when her chama - Tujenge Pamoja - formed three years earlier, she was elected treasurer
without debate.
Nineteen women. Over KSh 2.1 million in pooled savings by the end of 2024. They had dreams: land, school
fees, starting small shops. Marion handled the ledger with precision. She printed statements monthly, signed
disbursements, and tracked every shilling.
Until she didn't...to be continued...
