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Powering Through

When I stepped into the energy sector, my daughter was just two months old. Two. Months. Old. I had worked on random short projects before when in uni, and even through my pregnancy, but this was now a full-time role. 

And no, I wasn’t trying to “break barriers” or “shatter stereotypes.” I wasn’t gunning for awards. I just needed a job. But somehow, being a new mom in overalls with a toolkit became this quiet social experiment. Can she really do it all?

I could. I did. I still am.

Now let me tell you what the glossy career advice columns don’t.

At seven months postpartum, I was sent on a week-long field assignment. I wasn’t offered a soft landing. I wasn’t asked if I had childcare plans. I was told, not asked. And because, like most women in male-dominated sectors, I’d been quietly trained to prove, not question, I said yes. (I also was young and trying very hard to prove my place in the company).

Everyone clapped. Strong. Brave. Committed.

But no one asked about how my baby would eat. Or how I was coping. Because women just “figure it out,” right? It’s our unofficial superpower, emotional invisibility mixed with logistical genius.

Once I got to the field, the actual job, installing clean energy systems, turned out to be the easiest part. The harder part? Doing it while being silently scrutinised. My tools were double-checked. My cables re-run. My instructions were second-guessed. My decisions occasionally overridden.

I wasn’t just doing my job, I was constantly auditioning for it.

Then came the moment that sums it all up. I’m mid-installation, covered in dust, managing a delicate system connection, when a client walks up and says: “Madam, could you help us cook?”

I laughed. Surely, this was a joke. It wasn’t.

I politely declined. The review? I was "uncooperative." Apparently, being able to wire a control panel and stir stew is the true mark of excellence.

Then there was the time I was brought into a tense client meeting not as the technical lead (which I was), but as the “softener.” I wasn’t there to speak, I was there to… exist pleasantly. I mean, I've got innocent, convincing eyes, right?

It's funny, isn't it? You're either too quiet, too assertive, too emotional, too ambitious, too much of anything but just right.

And here’s the thing: the system isn’t broken. It was never built for us. Not for women. Not for mothers. Not for people with caregiving responsibilities or menstrual cycles or the audacity to want equity.

So yes, I have cried in washrooms. Yes, I have breast-pumped in field trucks. Yes, I’ve shown up with spit-up on my overalls and still ran cables like a boss, all while wondering if anyone else in the room had to juggle quite so much just to be believed.

And yet, I stay.

I stay because this work matters. Because clean energy isn’t abstract for me, it’s deeply personal. It’s the difference between dignity and despair for a young girl whose hobby is tearing apart toy cars and wondering why the old radio doesn't work any more. It’s about possibility.

But beyond the mission, I stay because of the people. Because in the toughest moments, it’s not just the systems I lean on, it’s the friendships. The quiet solidarity of women in energy saying, “You’ve got this.” The engineers who’ve had my back in meetings. The WhatsApp chats that hold more truth than any policy document. The little field rituals, like chai before site checks or the way someone always packs extra snacks because they know I skip lunch.

It’s the joy in small wins. It’s the venting that turns into laughter. It’s the absurdity, the strength, the beauty of showing up again and again in spaces that weren’t designed for you, and making them yours.

Balancing work and motherhood is not a tidy Instagram story. It's missed birthdays, postponed deadlines, guilt trips, moments of pride, and compromise. Some days, you feel like you're building the plane while flying it. Other days, you actually soar.

So here’s what I want to say to the next woman out there, whether you're entering a boardroom, a field site, or a new phase of life with a baby on your hip and a dream in your chest:

You are not imagining it. The challenges are real.

You are not alone.

And you are so much more capable than the world often gives you credit for.

We don't need perfect systems to thrive, just enough space to show up fully, a few good humans in our corner, and the stubborn belief that we belong here.

And as for the next client who asks me to make tea mid-installation?

Let’s just say, they can enjoy their cold tea and an even colder generator backup plan.


Author’s note: This blog is based on my lived experiences working in renewable energy and field deployment in rural Kenya, while raising a young child. It’s a reflection on the invisible negotiations, the quiet persistence, and the relationships that keep women like me showing up, not just to do the work, but to shape what the future of energy leadership can look like.



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