Retirement is often imagined as a season of rest. It is supposed to be the time when years of service finally yield peace, dignity, and the freedom to enjoy the fruits of one’s labour. Yet for many Kenyan retirees, retirement has become a season of waiting—waiting for pensions, waiting for medical reimbursements, and waiting for promises that never seem to arrive. In many ways, they are living with ghosts.
This reality is powerfully captured in Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s short story Ghosts. The story follows Professor James Nwoye, a retired mathematics lecturer who repeatedly visits the university bursary to inquire about his delayed pension. During one such visit, he unexpectedly meets Professor Ikenna Okoro, a colleague believed to have died decades earlier during the Nigerian Civil War. The encounter becomes more than a reunion; it becomes a confrontation with memory, loss, and the unfinished business of the past.
Many retired teachers in Kenya can relate to James Nwoye’s experience.
The long wait for pensions
Across the country, stories abound of retired civil servants spending months, and sometimes years, pursuing pension claims. After dedicating their most productive years to public service, some find themselves making endless trips to offices, carrying files from one desk to another, and seeking explanations that never seem satisfactory. The response often resembles the one James receives at the bursary: the money has not come, come next week, come next month, the matter is being processed.
The tragedy is not merely financial. It is psychological.
When work becomes identity
Work gives people structure, purpose, and identity. A teacher is not simply someone who teaches; teaching becomes part of who they are. A headteacher, principal, or lecturer spends decades shaping lives and building institutions. Then retirement arrives, and suddenly society appears to move on without them. The classroom bell rings for the last time. Staff meetings continue without them. New faces occupy offices they once called their own.
The result is a strange loneliness.
In Ghosts, James spends much of his time reflecting on former colleagues, his late wife Ebere, and the memories of a past that feels more alive than the present. Many retirees find themselves in a similar position. They live among memories. They remember students who are now governors, doctors, engineers, and business leaders. They remember colleagues who have passed away. They remember schools when resources were scarce but commitment was abundant.
These memories become their ghosts.
The ghosts of achievement and regret
Some of those ghosts are comforting. A former learner returning years later to say, “Teacher, you made a difference in my life,” can brighten an entire year. Such encounters remind retirees that their work mattered. Their legacy lives on in the lives they touched.
Other ghosts are more painful.
They include dreams that were never fulfilled, promotions that never came, investments that failed, and opportunities lost. They include spouses who are no longer alive to share retirement with them. Like Professor Nwoye remembering Ebere, many retirees spend their later years carrying the quiet weight of grief.
The ghost of institutional neglect
Kenya’s retirees also live with another ghost—the ghost of institutional neglect.
The conversation around education often focuses on learners, examinations, and curriculum reforms. Rarely do we discuss the welfare of those who spent decades making education possible. Yet how a nation treats its retirees reveals much about its values. A country that celebrates teachers on retirement day but forgets them afterwards sends a troubling message to those still in service.
The challenge is becoming even more significant as life expectancy increases. Many retirees now live for twenty or thirty years after leaving formal employment. Retirement is no longer a brief period before old age; it is a major phase of life requiring financial security, social support, and purposeful engagement.
The role of families and communities
This is where communities and families become crucial.
One of the touching aspects of Ghosts is the support James receives from his daughter Nkiru. While not every retiree has children living abroad or enjoying successful careers, the principle remains important. Families must recognise that retirement often brings emotional needs as well as financial ones. A phone call, a visit, a shared meal, or a simple conversation can mean more than we imagine.
Communities can also play a role by creating opportunities for retirees to continue contributing. Retired teachers possess a wealth of experience that schools desperately need. They can mentor young teachers, support literacy programmes, guide school boards, and nurture emerging leaders. Retirement should not mean irrelevance.
Honouring those who served
The final scene of Ghosts is especially powerful. Sitting alone in his study, Professor Nwoye reflects on the people and memories that continue to inhabit his life. He listens for “the sound of doors opening and closing.” It is a reminder that the past never entirely leaves us.
For many Kenyan retirees, those doors are always opening and closing. Behind them are memories of classrooms, staffrooms, assemblies, and generations of learners. Behind them are sacrifices, victories, disappointments, and dreams.
The question for Kenya is whether we shall allow our retirees to live only with ghosts or whether we shall honour them with the dignity, security, and appreciation they have earned.
A society that remembers its retirees is ultimately a society that remembers itself.
By Ashford Kimani
Ashford teaches English and Literature in Gatundu North Sub-county and writes on education, literacy, and youth development.
