It is high noon in the Kaloleni area of Nairobi. A Kenya Air Force light aircraft lifts off from nearby Eastleigh Air Base. Minutes later, it crashes into the Gorofani flats of Kaloleni Estate, snuffing out the lives of 52 people. This was what shaped the children of military men back then – the duality of life. Here now, gone the next moment. The militaristic obsession for order, systems, and duty.

Clifford Kinyua, son of an Air Force flight instructor, was some of those things, but also not. For starters, he is a more present father. “My father was absent a lot on national duty,” he says. When he came home, he was a stranger as we had all grown up.”

Kinyua, now the Group CEO of Saracen Media Group, litters his thoughts with pregnant pauses that deliver fully formed philosophical sentences, with militaristic drill. He still lives by order—certain habits die hard that way. “But if my daughter wants something” he says, “I’ll drop everything to do it for her.”

When people say, ‘Tell me about yourself,’ what do you say? I consider myself philosophical, grounded and generous. I try to be kind. Family grounds me. I am a father, husband and friend. Lately, I keep telling people that I feel like a philosopher. The more problems you have, the more you philosophise.

Have you led the life you thought you would? That’s a double-edged sword. You have a plan, and then circumstances shift you. I studied law and ended up in technology and advertising. I grew up in a military barracks, and that environment shaped me. My dad was a flight instructor in the Air Force, ending up as one of the first Kenyans to set up the Defence Staff College. I took his love for teaching, and that has manifested in my leadership roles, pouring into people.

What was it like growing up in the military? What a lot of people don't see is the good things. Everything is subsidised, so it doesn't prepare you for life after [chuckles]. Two, life is so organised there. It feels like home. The hedges are straight, not a single paper on the road. I like order and cleanliness. Some friends of mine who joined the military died in plane crashes. I remember in 1992, Kaloleni, one of my dad’s friends came, parked his car, and told us he was going on holiday with his family. Our neighbour at the back decided not to fly and let their cousins fly off. The plane took off, and Kaloleni is everyone’s story [in April of 1992, a Buffalo transport aircraft crashed in Gorofani flats of Kaloleni Estate, Nairobi, killing at least 50 people].

Growing up in such an environment makes one quite disciplined—which part of the military did you discard? I’m not sure, to be honest. But I’ve come to realise that regardless of what people say, your environment really shapes you. I am not militant in personality, but I like order. My dad had cancer and was admitted in the military hospital. Every day I visited, I felt at home because of how organised it was.

How do you remain spontaneous now? I am pretty set in my habits and systems, so my daughter and partner bring out my spontaneous nature. When my daughter wants something, I drop everything to do it for her.

How did fatherhood change you? My daughter is a Covid baby. I remember I had just landed and had to be in the hospital for three days, because if I left, I wouldn’t be allowed back in. And then coming home, we had no help for six months. I had all the books about parenting, in my true nature [chuckles]. But I don’t think you can ever be prepared for the first time you hold your child. Covid taught me life is unpredictable. You have to adapt. It taught me resilience, the beauty of family and being responsible for somebody. Now, six years later, she talks to me the way she wants. Nothing like fatherhood to teach you patience [chuckles].

How are you different from the father you grew up under? Fathering teaches you to have grace for your parents. You can never be a perfect parent. You do the best with what you have and can. I extend a lot of grace to myself for the same reasons. My father was in the military, so he was absent most of the time on national duty, and when he came home, he was a stranger in our house. I am more present for my daughter and intentional in knowing I won’t always be there. I try to equip her with skills so she can be independent and make better choices.

What did you believe about fatherhood that changed once you became one? Once you're in there, you realise that over and above the books you're reading, nothing prepares you for how life moves. Life is not as linear as you think it is going to be. With fatherhood, sometimes you have to make decisions as you go, and you have to be spontaneous and agile. You may have a preconception of what will be, but then you get surprised a lot, not by what you have to do but who you have to be.

Which book has most improved your life? My mum used to tell me people can take away everything around you, but they will never take away anything in your head. I discovered early that if you read just a little bit more than most people, you’ll really get ahead in life. I like Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. I have Atomic Habits by James Clear on habits and systems, where ‘you don't fail to the level of your goals; you fail to the level of your system’. I am currently reading The Hard Thing About Hard Things by Ben Horowitz.

What's a life lesson or a deep quote that you have picked from one of the books? Marcus Aurelius, in one of his books, says, “You Will Die.” So do right by people, and do what you can. But remember you must also live. That speaks to the duality of life, the yin and yang.

What will people mourn about you when you are gone? Actually, my partner is holding a death café soon. Long story. But we talk about death a lot. I hope my epitaph will say, and I do carry along with me a note with a poem by Bessie Anderson Stanley that says, “He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much; the love of little children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task.”

What has death taught you about success? My dad passed on last year from cancer. One of his biggest contributions to the military was signing the Veterans Act. My dad championed military personnel to access military services after they retired. When he got cancer, he was admitted to Armed Forces Memorial Hospital, and I imagine, because of the work he did, how poetic it was that he was benefiting from his act of selflessness. I know that in death many things don’t matter, but you can leave the world a better place than you found it.

Your father seems to have left quite the shoes to fill? Yes, he was an intellectual. He taught in Uganda and would tell me tales of intellectual sparring with the military caucus and presidents. Nothing ever prepares you when your parents are all gone, regardless of the relationship you had with them. You never realise just how much you hold them as an anchor, and when that disappears, it's very interesting how you have to recalibrate.

What's the one question you'd ask him if he were here today? What would he have done differently, especially on fatherhood? He told us he was proud of us and who we had become. But I would actually want to know what he thought about what kind of father he was.

Why is that important to you? Well, just so that I can understand whether he really saw us. When it comes to military personnel, the country comes first, so I'd like to open his brain and get that part. Does he think he could have done some things differently? Did he see us?

What’s on your bucket list? I don’t have one. I have a running journal where I put my thoughts down. I am an avid reader of Florence Scovel Shinn, and I don’t really set goals but put systems in play. I have travelled around the world, and would love to go to a match at Old Trafford. I live every year as it comes and take advantage of the opportunities that present themselves. Travel used to be a big point, but I have since quenched that thirst.

Do you have a secret talent? Maybe it is a trauma response or just how I grew up, but I have this ability to see or calculate in my head two or three steps ahead. Maybe it is a systems thing too. I can see the domino effects of many things in advance. Perhaps it’s why I am good at strategy and spotting trends.

What's your most used emoji? The thumbs up 👍. It’s a work thing, although I stopped glorifying work. I prefer the dignity of work. What is assigned to you as your responsibility, you must do. But when you start in corporate, you begin to glorify the busyness of work, where work should be fulfilling. It shouldn’t be the altar, and neither should we be worshipping it. I am not a workaholic, but I work hard. You can easily work yourself to death.

What habit are you trying to break? One of them is around sleep. I tend to go to bed late, and that’s because I can get lost in my world and wormholes. But also carrying the weight of responsibility and accountability, especially from a work perspective, where you feel you must carry the emotional weight of the decisions you make. Working with my therapist has eased that burden off me, just to help my nervous system.

What has therapy made you unlearn, especially as a man? That we men don’t talk much and we don’t have many support systems. It can be hard to share the weight of being a man and things one is going through. Therapy allows me to get out of my head and have a big screen on what I am actually thinking. You don’t need to be psychotic to go for therapy. Your mind is wired to protect you, and it is important once in a while to look for a professional sounding board. It is like an oil change for a car, and therapy has taught me that things are not always as serious as you think they are and there is always a way out.

Have you found yourself in therapy? It has helped me put a mirror in front of myself. Attending therapy is one thing; doing the work is another. You have to actively participate in the actual intrinsic work.

What does your perfect weekend look like? Spending time with family. I have a robust community of friends and people we work with in terms of marriage. Sometimes my daughter will be out with her grandparents. My partner is a producer of many things, and you will find me in many of her events.

What’s your weekend soundtrack? “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor.

Give us some practical life wisdom. Life is not linear. One of my favourite quotes is when you reach your island of knowledge, do not forget your shore of ignorance. You can never know it all. And you can never be an island by yourself. I’m very intentional about how I am building community support. I think that lacks a lot, especially due to capitalism, which brings out a lot of individualism, which is not how we are naturally wired.

What has success not fixed? That depends on how you define success. For me, it begins with understanding that my success has never been about economic outcomes. One of the greatest graces I extend to myself is the ongoing work of shaping my character — clarifying what I stand for and staying true to it. In my view, success is the natural outcome of who you are, not what you own. That runs counter to the way many people define success in purely material terms. True success, for me, has been the continuous process of confronting my flaws and growing through them. That inner work is what ultimately shapes everything else — reputation, opportunity, and even financial reward.

eashioya@ke.nationmedia.com