I remember the first episode clearly. It hit during a work meeting in Nairobi, where I’d prepped for weeks to pitch a project. As I started talking, my throat just locked up. No ache, no warning—total quiet. My mouth formed words, but nothing emerged. I forced a weak mumble eventually, but the group had moved on. They chuckled, thinking I was nervous. I left feeling exposed.
It kept recurring, oddly timed for high-stakes situations. Like during a job interview in Mombasa, or chatting with relatives at a family gathering. Yet alone or with close friends, my voice worked fine—I’d chat freely, even yell during a football match. Doctors in local clinics examined me thoroughly. Scans, throat checks, all clear. No physical issue, they said.
The toughest was at my cousin’s wedding in Kisumu. Tasked with a quick toast, I froze in front of the crowd. Silence dragged on awkwardly. A few relatives murmured I was overdoing it for attention. That stung deep. Over time, I learned it ties to anxiety, not some mystery ailment. Therapy helped, focusing on breathing techniques and gradual exposure. Now, I share this to connect with others facing similar voice struggles in everyday Kenyan life—it’s more common than we think, and manageable with the right support. Read more https://drbokko.com/?p=36338
