Where Are the Leaders? | From Empathy to Impact | Loise Machira's Story

Those questions never left me. Soon after, I began volunteering with the Kenya Red Cross, distributing supplies to displaced families. It was my first taste of service and the moment I realized that empathy only matters if it moves us to act.

That seed grew into a passion for social justice. I chose to study law with a focus on public international law because I wanted to understand how countries should protect minority groups, prevent civil war, and actualize human rights for the underserved. I wanted to know how laws, systems, and policies could translate into dignity and fairness for real people, not just exist as words on paper.

In 2021, I joined a coalition of advocates, mental health professionals, and civil society organisations to push for reforms under the Mental Health (Amendment) Bill in Kenya. Together, we engaged policymakers, convened consultations, and I had the rare opportunity to attend Parliament to table recommendations that prioritised dignity and access for persons with mental illness. When the Bill was signed into law in 2022, it marked a milestone: therapy was recognised as a health service, insurance discrimination was prohibited, and violations now carry penalties of up to KES 5 million (USD 40,000). That moment was a reminder that when citizens stand firm, laws can reflect humanity.

Then came 2020. I lost my job. I felt despair, buried in self-pity, and moved back home to my parents. But that season was interrupted one evening when I saw a post about Kariobangi North, an informal settlement in Nairobi where rent ranged from just $5 to $25 a month. In the middle of the lockdown, families there had been unlawfully evicted overnight. Imagine, where people couldn’t even afford masks or space for social distancing, now they had no roof over their heads.

I felt a heavy burden to go see for myself. I carried what little supplies I could afford and sat with families whose lives had been upended.

I felt a heavy burden to visit those affected and see how I could help. The media was silent, and nobody seemed to listen to their cries. With my limited finances, I carried supplies for only a handful of families. I sat with one resident, Mr. David Kogi, who shared his heartbreaking story on camera. With consent, I shared one story online and the next morning, hundreds of messages poured in. By the next morning, I had received hundreds of messages from people wanting to help. Quickly, I set up an online kitty, and in just one week, I raised close to USD 20,000.

That fundraising kicked off a one-year project where we assisted families through relief care packages, cash transfers, and rental support, all from both monetary and non-monetary contributions. Working with volunteers, the local Catholic Church, and corporate partners, we were able to positively impact more than 600 families. That experience changed my life. I saw that digital activism with a clear call to action and relentless implementation, could restore dignity. I learnt that empathy, when paired with strategy, could mobilize a nation.

This led me into consulting work, using the same experience for various local and international organizations. My journey took another unexpected turn. I was invited to support a clean energy fund with strategic communications.  For many Africans, “climate change” sounds like an abstract, distant term. But its realities are already here. Sub-Saharan Africa faces declining crop yields that threaten food security. In West Africa, homes and livelihoods are being destroyed by floods. And across the continent, 600 million people still live without access to electricity. In Uganda, for instance, only 57% of households in urban areas and 19% in rural areas have reliable access to power (Uganda Bureau of Statistics). These are not just numbers, they are families, children, and future generations shaped by the choices we make today.

Through Green Energy Nest, the company I founded, I now work with clean energy initiatives across Africa to amplify their impact, refine messaging, engage stakeholders, and build trusted brands that lead the just energy transition. We are dismantling false narratives of climate as purely apocalyptic and instead spotlighting the innovators already building solutions on this continent: from solar-powered products bringing light to off-grid villages, to community-driven energy models transforming lives. Africa holds 60% of the world’s solar potential and yet, we are still sitting on it. So, the question is: will we continue to overlook what’s in our hands, or will we step up, harness our resources, and lead the solutions the world is waiting for?

To me, climate leadership isn’t just about technical expertise or policy; it’s about people, language, and narratives. It’s about helping communities understand why this matters, and empowering organisations to build trust across sectors. My leadership journey hasn’t been traditional. It’s not linear. It’s layered. But at every stage from law school to community interventions, from social advocacy to climate strategy it’s been rooted in the same thing: A refusal to look away, a willingness to ask uncomfortable questions, and a quiet belief that small actions can ripple into systems change.

When I look back at my story, I can see the hand of God in my life. A favourite verse of mine says: “Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain.” (Psalm 127:1)

Today, I challenge you to see yourself as the solution your community needs; to rise above the fear, to speak up against injustice, to serve the most vulnerable, and to contribute to the future we want for Africa. Since my childhood, my question: Where are the leaders? has finally been answered. And I’m sorry to break it to you, but we are the ones.