Descriptions:
The idea for this book hit me in 2021. Remember when I resigned from Kiss FM? Yeah, that moment. I didn’t walk away because I had a master plan. I walked away because I couldn’t breathe in there anymore—too much female energy, too much bullshit. I wrote that resignation letter, served my three months, and bounced. Then came Rogue Radio with Dizzo. I believed in it so much I threw everything I had at it—literally. Took a loan against my beautiful Nissan Teana, worth a million at the time, and pulled 450K to build the studio. I was all in. The vision was solid. We made something glorious. That studio? It was wild. It was everything I ever dreamed of. I lived there. Ate, breathed, and bled content in that space. But the money didn’t come. Reality is a motherfucker when you’re chasing a dream with no safety net. I couldn’t keep up with rent for my house and for where my kids stayed. So I made a hard choice: gave up my own place. Start-ed hopping from Airbnb to Airbnb, depending on what I had in my pocket. When I couldn’t manage even that, I tucked my tail between my legs and went to crash at my kids’ place. That was some embarrassing shit right there. And remember that Teana? It got repossessed. I couldn’t keep up with the loan. That’s why Soli used to pick me up every morning from the main road. No car. No house. But every day, we went to the studio and we made magic. We had the best convos, the realest vibes, even in the middle of the storm. hen one morning I looked at myself and asked,
“Kibe, how the hell did you get here?” What signs had I ignored? What exits did I miss? Where did I let go of the wheel? Why was I living like a puny—like a Kinuthia who got finessed by life? That morning, I lit a fire in my belly. I sat down and started writing. I wrote down every lesson I wish I had known at 28. Why 28? Because that was before the baby mama drama. Before the lies. Before the system okotwad me proper. By the time I was done, I had 28 truths. 28 commandments. And I knew—I just knew—this had to be a book.
Each chapter in here is one of those truths. Real. Raw. Lived. Not theory. These are scars turned into scripture. Some of them hurt to write. But they needed to be said. Because I’m not the only man who’s been through the fire. And if you’re reading this, you probably feel it too.
These commandments pulled me out of the mud. They made me powerful again.
And whatever I’ve touched since then—content, business, deals—it’s worked. Because I’m working from truth.
This is my gift to you. May these commandments slap the Kinuthia out of you.
May they do for you ten times what they did for me. And may you never, ever live a lambistic life again.
Andrew Kibe
