“Death smiles at us all,” says General Maximus Meridius to Emperor Commodus in the ‘Gladiator’, “the best a man can do is smile back.”
Catherine Mwati knows a thing or two about accepting, perhaps even embracing death, about the things that time forgets and the things that we remember no matter how desperately we wish not to—like losing two young clients in her rehabilitation centre at Silwan Fountain Treatment Recovery Centre.
In these moments she seeks out her husband, whom she refers to as “my good friend” to act as a counterweight to the yoke life has fastened on her shoulders.
She references God a lot, a zealot’s conviction that perhaps every setback is merely a setup, that the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh, and the best a man, or woman, can do is to accept the Lord’s will. Because what else is there?
Is her work a burden or a blessing? People tell her things, and what could be heavier than a secret? There is beauty in the unknown you see. Knowing is not a gift but a punishment. “I have learned to give myself rope,” she says.
“I don’t beat myself up too much.” She should know. In the end, it’s always the shadow which embraces the fading light.
How did you get here?
Long story. I served as a civil servant in a hospital as a nurse. After a few years, I felt like I was losing touch, delving too much into the technical aspects when I really love connecting with people.
In 2006, I left nursing for counselling, which was in high demand at the time. In 2011, I started working with the Wings to Fly programme, handling their psychosocial support for five years.
However, when scholars struggling with substance abuse sought help, I felt inadequate. That’s when I pursued addiction counselling training, completing a one-and-a-half-year diploma before becoming an internationally accredited professional in addiction.
But what I learned in class often didn’t align with reality on the ground. My co-founder and I started addressing that gap, but we eventually parted ways. During a moment of reflection, I prayed, asking God for guidance.
In February 2018, seven different families called, asking for my rehab centre. That’s when I knew God wasn’t done with me yet.
That I’m proud and arrogant [chuckles]. Some also think I’m too strict, which might be why my former colleague said I was “too strict for rehabilitation.”
Even clients initially perceive me as strict, but that changes once they interact with me.
Why is that so? Did you grow up in a strict family?
[Whispers] Yes, I did. I was raised by two teachers—my father was a headteacher. Their discipline shaped me, and I find myself deeply connected to my father.
Is he still alive?
He is 91 years old this year. My mother is also alive.
Are you raising your children the same way?
Yes. My children know I’m strict, but they appreciated it. I have young adults and two grandsons. We are five siblings, all with our own families, and we’re grateful to God for that. My parents weren’t rich, but they served the community with what little they had.
Growing up, we took in children from less fortunate backgrounds. Every member of our family continues this tradition by helping others, which is our way of giving back.
Grandmothers are known to be softer on their grandchildren than on their children. Is that the case for you?
Ask my children—they can’t believe it! But they must understand, I’m a mother to them and a grandmother to their children. Haha!
How do you quieten your mind in such a sensitive space?
That’s a nice question. This field is emotionally and mentally taxing, with tough days involving aggressive clients. But the fulfilling moments outweigh the hard ones.
We deal with involuntary admissions, where clients aren’t aware of their condition and resist being admitted. It can be challenging, but seeing them complete the programme and even return for aftercare gives me immense joy.
Also, I’ve been married to my good friend for over 30 years...
Yes, my husband, Ben. We agreed to be friends first. During difficult times, we debrief together. He helps me process things. I also cherish my quiet moments with God. I can’t start my day without consulting Him.
Singing hymns calms me as well, and I teach God’s Word with BSF [Bible Study Fellowship International]. I’m also a lay minister at church, which helps me let go of the stress from work. Sometimes I jog or swim.
30+ years with your good friend. What is the secret to your marriage?
Friendship. Friends stretch for each other and communicate candidly. Since courting, Ben and I agreed to be open with one another. He knows my weaknesses and helps me grow.
Where do you draw your sense of meaning from most?
Family is key—not just my nuclear family but also the extended one. Improving lives is fulfilling, but if my family isn’t thriving, it robs me of joy. From a young age, we encouraged our children to voice concerns.
There was even a celebration when they first dared to tell us off! But we turned the tables, and it became a two-way dialogue, which fostered openness.
Do you have a family ritual?
We pray together, which keeps us united. We also take family holidays, including my married son and his family. Birthdays are big in our house. For my husband’s 60th, we managed to surprise him, which is rare because he usually figures things out, haha!.
What’s the most relaxing part of your day?
I’m an early riser, and my devotion time in the morning is precious. It’s when I reflect, listen to God, and plan my day.
What’s your guilty pleasure?
Githeri with salt and a cup of strong tea. I enjoy it [chuckles].
Staying awake [chuckles]. I love sleep. I also struggle with negative people; their energy is suffocating. This has taught me to choose carefully who I keep close.
Have you made a New Year’s resolution?
Yes, to market our institution better. On a personal level, I’m focused on spiritual and career growth.
When was the last time you did something for the first time?
In 2023, my husband and I traveled to the United States for the first time, exploring different states and meeting people.
What are you looking forward to now?
Expanding our rehabilitation centre’s capacity from 34 to 50 or even 60, while maintaining a hands-on, impactful approach. We aim to treat clients with dignity.
What do people often fail to appreciate?
Their own potential, especially the younger generation, who are incredible risk-takers.
What’s the soundtrack of your life right now?
Michael Bolton’s Talk About Love.
What has been Catherine’s biggest loss?
Losing clients during their recovery process. In 2023, I lost two back-to-back to suicide, which devastated me. One was a 30-year-old economist working for multinationals, and the other passed away shortly after promising to return for their belongings.
It’s heartbreaking, not just for me but for the institution and families involved.
How do you keep a smile despite such challenges?
By setting boundaries. If I’ve done my best, I don’t dwell on what I can’t change.
What’s your guilty pleasure?
Githeri with salt and a cup of strong tea. I enjoy it [chuckles].
If you could tell me just one thing, what would it be?
Recovery is possible, and lives can be transformed.
When you think of the weekend, what comes to mind?
Saturday starts early with a meeting at 6:45am, but the rest of the day is for recreation and rest. Sundays involve ministry at church and lunch with my family.
Who should I meet?
My husband. He’s impactful but humble, embodying our family’s belief in making a difference quietly.