By Josiah Kariuki
I often find myself returning, in deliberate reflection, to that Saturday morning nearly a year ago when my phone rang at exactly 5:00 a.m. It was an unexpected interruption—yet one that proved deeply significant. On the line was Stephen Isaboke, the Principal Secretary in the State Department for Broadcasting and Telecommunications, Ministry of Information, Communications, and the Digital Economy.
He had read an article I’d written, which was gradually circulating online, and in a calm, unassuming tone, mentioned he had been following my work for some time. I received his words with humility. Recognition like that is rare—not because effort is scarce, but because affirmation often arrives without ceremony.
What struck me most was the spirit in which it was conveyed. Here was a man with considerable national responsibility, yet he engaged with warmth, clarity, and steady strength. It was a reminder that true leadership speaks through presence, humility, and genuine connection—not authority.
That call evolved into a meaningful friendship. Each interaction offers subtle but powerful lessons: he is measured in thought, disciplined in execution, and guided by a vision beyond immediate outcomes. His commitment to Kenya’s communications and digital landscape is clear, but even more compelling is his respect for process, people, and purpose.
The experience often reminds me of Darren Hardy’s The Compound Effect: small, disciplined actions accumulate over time to create extraordinary results. Transformation rarely arrives in grand gestures; it unfolds deliberately, shaped by consistency, resilience, and the decision to persist even when progress seems invisible.
This principle—captured by the Latin term perseverantia—speaks to deliberate commitment: to keep building, refining, and believing even without applause. Stephen Isaboke embodies this principle with remarkable consistency. There is humility in his leadership, dignity in his conduct, and steadiness in his service. His influence is cultivated through character, discipline, and integrity—not position.
Our friendship is both a gift and a responsibility: a call to rise to higher standards, refine one’s craft, and remain faithful to the work itself. That single phone call continues to echo with a foundational lesson:
Keep doing the work. Keep refining the craft. Keep honouring the process. Keep walking in perseverantia.
In time, the work will speak—and when it does, it will be understood, not merely heard.
-Mr. Kariuki offers his writings voluntarily to the Kisii Press Club. The views in this article are his.