

What changes when we stop chasing more?
We’ve been conditioned to believe that growth is the ultimate goal. That GDP must rise, that portfolios must grow, that productivity must always climb. More is the measure. More is the mantra. But what happens when we have… enough?
Not just as individuals, but as societies?
What does it mean… economically, politically, spiritually… to build a world no longer obsessed with infinite expansion?
This is the third and final essay in this series. If the first was a signal, and the second was a roadmap, this one is a pause. A breath. A wondering.
In the Tao Te Ching, Lao Tzu writes:
“He who knows that enough is enough will always have enough.”
It’s not an economic framework. It is a worldview.
One that has become louder in my own heart the more I move between worlds.
I’ve lived the past decade in acceleration:
And now, I am starting to hear something else: a question beneath the noise:
What is all this optimization for?
What are we building when we’re done building?
These are the conversations I continue to have with the brilliant minds around me.
Allow me to say it in this way: “Enough” isn’t laziness. It’s alignment.
It asks not how much we can extract, but how well we can live.
Enough is a world where:
In a post-labor world, we are forced to confront this idea more urgently. If machines can produce everything we need, if AI can predict every demand… then what is left for us to do?
The answer, I believe, lies in being (and non-being).
With Ntha Foundation newly incorporated in the U.S., my latest headache is figuring out what ‘meaningful’ will look like in our world. We intend to connect and equip underrepresented students with access to knowledge and opportunity. If I can have it my way, this work will go beyond skilling—it will be about self-actualization.
In the Kwathu Kollective, I aspire for our hubs across Africa to be not just centers of innovation; but also spaces of belonging. Places where digital meets dignity. Where youth are not told to chase Western ideals, but to build their own.
Through Q2 Games, I hope to tell stories—African stories. Because enough also means enough erasure. Enough marginalization. The stories we tell shape the systems we build. And we’re overdue for new myths.
To me, my work (if up to me, which it often is) is about scaling capacity, not dependency.
It’s about creating abundance, not excess.
We’re entering an age where traditional economic metrics won’t make sense anymore.
Think about it:
In this new age, we need new metrics:
As I often reflect, “What if Africa’s greatest export wasn’t raw materials—but healed people?” What if that became our national asset class?
In a world of “enough,” politics itself must evolve. Representation isn’t just about who gets a seat; but how that seat serves stillness, justice, and joy.
We need policies that:
And we must build institutions that do not extract from the earth or people, but restore them.
Lately, I’ve found peace not in winning, but in watching.
Not in publishing, but in pruning.
I’ve restructured my foundation.
I’ve handed over operations.
I’ve stepped back—not to disappear, but to ground myself again.
I want my life, and work, to feel like a curated hotel: thoughtful, intentional, serene.
Not because I’m escaping capitalism.
But because I’m building what comes after.
The future isn’t just tech-enabled. I do deeply believe it is spiritually required.
AI may replace labor. Automation may replace management. But nothing replaces meaning.
And meaning, I believe, lives in enough.
As I sit at the intersection of two continents, two worldviews, and two timelines, I realize this is my life’s work:
To build an Africa that is not always chasing the world—
But anchoring it.
To scale peace, not just programs.
To export stillness, not just code.
And to remind us all:
Enough was always the goal.
with Contentment,
Ntha