Stepping Up: A Kairos Moment in Leadership

I was called out to step up in my leadership in an unexpected way this past weekend.

We were travelling back to Nairobi from our rural home when we came upon a van of stranded travellers with a burst tyre. Frantic, they flagged us down and asked if they could borrow our spare tyre to get to the next town—about 30 kilometres away—where they could buy a replacement.

I was the one called to make the decision.

I paused. Giving them the tyre meant we’d travel without a backup, which carried its own risks. But it also meant choosing to stretch out a helping hand in a moment of real need.

As I weighed this, I recalled a story told at a friend’s burial recently. The deceased had been in a motorcycle accident. Several motorists passed him by, unwilling to stop. But a young bodaboda rider named Safari didn’t look away. He gave up a paying client to help a man in distress. When no one would stop to assist him in getting the injured man to a hospital, he convinced a truck driver to block the road—forcing others to stop and pay attention.

That was leadership. No title, no fanfare. Just courage, conviction, and initiative.

Safari’s actions reminded me that leadership isn’t about position—it’s about response. And this response often comes in a moment—a window that opens briefly and demands we act.

That brings me to something my coach, Mary M’Mukindia, MBS, shared recently: the difference between Chronos and Kairos—two Greek concepts of time.

Chronos is the time we track with clocks and calendars. It governs our schedules, plans, and goals. I had a plan that day—a timeline, a route, a sense of control. But that moment by the roadside wasn’t a Chronos decision. It was a Kairos moment.

Kairos is about timing, not time. It’s the opportune moment—the critical window where something meaningful, perhaps even life-changing, can happen if we choose to act.

In Greek mythology, Chronos is the old god of measurable time. But Kairos is depicted as a young man with a lock of hair on his forehead—easy to grasp when approaching, impossible to grab once passed. You either seize the moment or miss it.

That moment on the road—with the stranded travellers—was my Kairos. A moment that interrupted my Chronos-bound plans. I chose to say yes. And I credit Safari the young bodaboda rider for inspiring me. It is not always the case that bodabodas and their riders remind us about all that is not right with our road etiquette, sometimes they can inspire and challenge us to step up to lead and do so from a place of kindness.

Leadership often doesn’t look like a podium or a boardroom. Sometimes, it looks like a spare tyre. Sometimes, like a blocked road. And often, it looks like the decision to act when no one else will.