Let’s talk about rejection, creatives! If you’re an artist, a musician, a writer, or even that guy who wants to make it big on TikTok dancing in his mum’s sitting room, you have faced rejection. And if you haven’t, just wait—it’s coming. It’s like ugali at a family function; you can’t escape it. The pieces are always bigger, the soup, non-existent and the feeling in your head that you are wasting food and other Africans are watching you do it. My parents and most Luo parents would threaten you with what Olwero saw, if you don't finish your food, you will see what Olwero saw. Ok, enough of unsolved mysteries.

Let’s take a moment of silence for our fallen brother, Me, I once started playing the guitar, took my lessons pretty seriously and proudly went to my father to announce my progression. The old man dashed one look my way and declared, “Music is for walevis and misfits!” Boom. Dream dead. Just like that., I run to my mum, who by no small Suprise even declared that all those guitar toys are also forfeit and banned in the Owuor household, the plan was for me to become a doctor, there was more shock for everyone, when I decided to become a developer, what is that, my son, who in the family have you heard of doing those things, you want to sleep on the floor like these people looking through long pieces of paper, and my mum added, that is why my white baptism shirt looked like it was drugged through the mud. One thing our parents knew was how to tag team and throw the pressure ON.

Now, before you start judging my parents, let’s be honest. Who in your family has done this to someone? Maybe it was your aunt who told your cousin that playing FIFA all day would never pay bills (and now there’s esports). Maybe it was your mother who side-eyed your poetry and told you, “Utajua hujui when you start paying rent.” Rejection in the creative industry is not just an obstacle; it is the WHOLE road.

But here’s the plot twist: rejection is your best friend. If I had continued with my dream despite my parent's career re-direction, who knows? Maybe I would be Kenyan Ed Sheeran by now. Maybe I would have secured a hit song that would be used in a viral TikTok challenge. Or, at the very least, I would be making enough money, with all sorts of screaming girls, day by day. Fabian the rockstar, I don't see it anymore, skinny with long fingers. NO.

The thing about creatives is that we often want immediate validation. We want people to say, “Wow! You are the next big thing!” But the truth is, success comes after so many people have told you no that you start thinking “No” is your middle name. J.K. Rowling was rejected by 12 publishers before Harry Potter saw the light of day. Lupita Nyong’o was told she wasn’t pretty enough for Hollywood (and then she became an Oscar-winning actress). My favorite Kenyan artist story, Kaligraph Jones, Booed and almost chased off stage on his very first performance, he stuck to it and look where he is now.

But fear not! There is hope, and that hope comes wrapped in blockchain technology. Yes, creatives, technology is here to save us from piracy, unpaid royalties, and relatives who think creative work is only for those who failed in life and the demons (in your head). A non-profit organization called the Open Music Initiative has stepped in with blockchain solutions that ensure musicians, writers, and producers get their due. This means no more stories of artists dying poor while their music keeps making millions. No more questionable middlemen eating your money. No more getting paid with exposure (which, last time we checked, cannot pay rent in Nairobi).

With blockchain technology, everything is recorded on a decentralized ledger, making piracy nearly impossible and payments faster. So, instead of fearing rejection, creatives need to embrace it, fight through it, and let technology be on their side.

You could even build a platform that pays people to listen to certain songs—because, let’s be honest, some Kenyan tracks should come with a paycheck. If I have to endure four minutes of offbeat auto-tune and lyrics that sound like a WhatsApp status gone wrong, I better be getting hazard pay!

So, dear creative, the next time someone tells you that your art is a waste of time, smile, say asante, and keep going. Because today’s walevi and misfits are tomorrow’s legends. Ask Gen z, who being influencers is now officially a career choice, just keep yourselves from the edges of mountains, tall buildings and volcanoes.