On Thursday, April 2nd, my uncle, Bernard Kituyi, unexpectedly passed away at the age of 52, leaving behind six children who now have to navigate life without their father.

In my culture, an uncle is not just family—he is a father. And that is exactly who my uncle was to me. He loved me, guided me, and held a place in my life that cannot be replaced. The bond we shared was deep, and losing him feels like losing a part of myself.

I was recently in Kenya, and I missed the chance to see him one last time. That reality is something I am struggling to come to terms with, and it’s a weight I know I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

Being a first-generation Kenyan American means living between two worlds—and in moments like this, that distance feels unbearable. I am grieving here, while my family is grieving there. At the same time, I am trying to coordinate everything on the ground in Kenya while figuring out how to get there myself.

Right now, I need to return home to lay him to rest.

The financial burden is overwhelming. It’s not just the cost of traveling to Kenya—there are significant expenses involved in transporting his body, organizing funeral arrangements, and ensuring he is given the proper burial he deserves.

This loss was sudden. There was no time to prepare, no time to plan—only grief, responsibility, and the urgency to show up for my family.

I am asking for help because I cannot carry this alone.

If you feel called to support, whether through a donation or by sharing this page, it would mean more than I can truly put into words. You are helping me get home. You are helping me honor a man who meant everything to me.

Thank you for holding me and my family in your hearts during this time.