By Consolata Makena, Wezesha Class of 2025

“EFAC didn’t just hand me a pen to write my story - it gave me the power to own it.”

I grew up in Timau, a small town on the edge of Meru, near Mt. Kenya, just where the Laikipia plains begin. Because of its topography, it’s the kind of place where mornings smell of wet soil, and evenings fall quiet and heavy, with rain.

My story begins among flower farms, wheat fields, and the calloused hands of women who carried families on their backs. My mum was one of these hardworking women. Some days she bent over rows of roses destined for export; on others, she harvested wheat under the highland sun. On lean days, she patched together casual jobs, her wages thin but her will unbroken. With help from her sisters and the kindness of neighbours, she kept us afloat. Many times, it was those little acts of kindness that made the difference between staying in school and being sent home for school fees.

Silent dreams

Truth is, I was not the star of my class. But I was not invisible either - just the bright but quiet child who harbored dreams that changed with the seasons in Timau. One day, I wanted to be a pilot (mostly because of the sunglasses), then an accountant, sometimes a receptionist. But “cardiologist” was my favorite - not because I understood it, but because it sounded important. What was more important was that I knew that I wanted to belong to a world bigger than Timau.

My Life bent toward change the day I stepped through the gates of Starehe Girls’ Centre. Just being there felt like cheating fate. But the true miracle came folded in a letterhead stamped with three simple letters: EFAC. I had applied for the scholarship without fanfare, almost timidly, scribbling my hopes into boxes I wasn’t sure I deserved to tick. What I expected was silence. What arrived was acceptance. And with that, I was no longer just a girl from that small village - I was an EFAC scholar, a title that meant more than money for fees. It meant someone, somewhere, believed I was worth investing in.

*Consolata receives the Miss EFAC 2023 Award from EFAC Board of Trustees member Shadrack Kirunga*

Product of a Community

EFAC became a family. The workshops, mentorship sessions, and leadership trainings brought together teenagers from different corners of Kenya. I remember the first time I stood to speak in one of those sessions; my hands shook so much, I almost dropped my notes. But when I finished, everyone clapped - not out of politeness, but as if to say, “We see you. Keep going.”

Each session added something to me: confidence, courage, clarity. I began to speak louder, think bigger, and dream more intentionally.

When asked about the most influential person in my life, I can’t pick one. Honestly, it’s been the entire EFAC community - the mentors who guided me and reminded me to breathe, the staff who made everything seem effortless behind the scenes, the alumni whose stories lit a fire in me, and my fellow scholars who’ve become like family. The EFAC community has not just supported my growth; it has made sure I never forgot to laugh - even at myself, along the way.

*Consolata shares a moment with EFAC 2025 Graduation Chief Guest Anne Muraya, CEO of Deloitte EA, upon receiving the Prof. Leah Marangu Woman of Character Award.*

Dreams unlfold

Today, I wear a nurse’s coat, something that still amazes the little girl from Timau. I trained at Pumwani School of Nursing and Midwifery and gained clinical experience at some of Nairobi’s busiest hospitals: Mama Lucy Kibaki, Mbagathi, Kiambu Level 5, and Pumwani Maternity.

I’ve also earned WHO certifications in infection prevention and humanitarian safeguarding. But for me, nursing isn’t just a job. It’s a service. It’s standing with people in their most vulnerable moments, easing pain, offering comfort, holding hope.

Every time I walk through the hospital corridors, I carry the memory of that uncertain girl who once doubted if she would ever matter. Now I know, I do. And now, my story unfolds, not in whispers of timidness, but in steady, clear sentences that say, Even in the smallest towns like Timau, brilliance waits to be believed in.