Most people never see the part of the day when the city is quiet, the roads are empty and the cold air brushes against your cheeks. The sky is in transition, neither dark nor bright, slowly revealing the promise of what is to come. At this moment, the city is still waking up, stretching itself into the new day. But somewhere within that silence, a group of gentlemen is already awake. They arrive one by one at a familiar spot, their arrival announced by the soft sound of tyres breaking. A few stretches to wake the body are made, helmets click into position, gloves tightened and a signature handshake then follows. Water bottles check, determination check. And just like that, they are ready to face the day.

They roll out quietly, wheels turning in unison as the road opens up ahead of them. At this hour, the city is still quiet. Dew is still clinging to the grass, the air is cool, and the road belongs to them alone. For them, this is more than a commute. It is a journey to work that shapes them, steadies them, and surely makes them better. Someone rides slightly ahead, steady and measured, the kind of pace that speaks of experience. That is Naftali Wamai. For him, cycling is not a recent interest or a passing phase; it is something rooted deep in his formative years.

Long before this morning routine, a bicycle was a survival tool. “As a child, we used bikes to fetch grass for cows, to get to church, to move through life when walking was not always an option,” he recalls. “For us, it was survival.” Over time, that necessity quietly grew into something more. Years later, faced with the chaos of Nairobi as a university student, Naftali chose a bicycle over a hostel, riding daily between Ruiru and Nairobi CBD, a distance of about 25 kilometers. The decision was not met with enthusiasm at home, but on the daily commute, something lasting was formed: discipline and consistency. What began as survival slowly morphed into passion, shaping not just how he rides, but how he shows up each day.

A few metres behind, laughter cuts through the cold air. Francis Otunga is talking. His voice always carries humour just when the road begins to feel long. Francis started cycling when COVID-19 brought uncertainty and disrupted plans and routines. With his last salary, he bought a bicycle, initially planning to use it for deliveries. He started off with no helmet and no long-term vision. For him, Apollo, his cherished bicycle, was just a buddy that helped him survive. Later, this transition turned to a blessing. “Cycling gave me freedom, saved me money and slowly became a way to clear my mind before facing the day,” he says.Even as he pedals towards work now, there is a lightness in the way he rides, as though he remembers what it felt like to need this escape.

Ahead, Joshua Muriki takes a quieter turn. He is the kind of rider who treats the ride as therapy rather than simply a commute. For him, cycling to work is not about getting from one place to another; it’s about discovery. New routes, unexpected turns and moments to soak in the quiet of nature. “Cycling refreshes my mind,” he says. “I can leave the house with no real plan, just a distance in mind and let the road decide the rest.” On mornings like this, with the air crisp, he rides as though easing into the day, not bracing for it.

As the road begins to get busy, Dennis Odete moves closer to the group. He joined the riders through the Vice Chancellor’s Run. He was encouraged to participate even though his bike was small and fairly new. “Come even if it’s a small bike,” he was told. “You can do it.” He did just that and built consistency and kept coming back. Now, cycling to work has become part of how he shows up. When the road gets tough, he pushes on with purpose, carrying with him the memory of finishing races where exhaustion was met by teammates cheering him on. In those moments, the ride becomes more than personal effort; it becomes a reminder of community and of being part of something bigger than himself. As they continue toward campus, conversation fades in and out, sometimes silence, sometimes laughter, and sometimes encouragement when the road demands more effort.

They are colleagues heading to their desks, but on the road, titles fall away. What remains is trust, accountability and a shared momentum. By the time the campus comes into view, the city is fully awake. Traffic builds, emails load. The workday begins. But for this group, something important has already happened. They have moved their bodies, cleared their minds and shared a moment of togetherness before the demands of work take over. They arrive refreshed, their minds clearer and ready for the day. After freshening up and changing into their crisp work attire, they step into their roles healthier, more focused and energised. They often say there is no single way to begin the day well, only the courage to choose what works for you. For them, it is cycling. A way to keep fit, a way to slow down and a way of pouring back into themselves before the day takes its fair share. Their invitation is simple: find what moves you, find what sustains you, and make space for it. The journey is worth it.

Article written by Linda Rerimoi, 3rd Year BA in Communications Student.