12 October 2026
What Grandma Always Said

Welcome. I am so glad you found your way here.
I am Emmah Odong'a: a nurse, an author, a mentor, and, at heart, a lifelong learner. I have counted numbers as an accountant, stood in front of a classroom as a teacher, and sat beside people at the bedside in moments that ask for more than skill. Each of those paths taught me something. But the voice I hear most clearly, when life gets loud, is not from any of them.
It belongs to my grandmother.
This blog is a place to pause. A place for the small, everyday truths we rush past, and for the kindness that quietly holds everything together. And it seems only right to begin where my own learning began: at my grandmother's side.
Her name was Elizabeth Oruko, though her peers called her "Olisa." She never had an office or a title on a door, but make no mistake: she was the CEO of our home. Her meetings happened in the kitchen, under the tree outside, or in the middle of the farm when you thought you had only come to help. Her performance reviews were immediate. Her policies were non-negotiable.
Grandma never attended formal school. Yet she graduated at the top of the University of Life, with honors in human behavior and a minor in common sense. If you asked where she learned something, she would look at you as if you had asked where rain comes from. "I have eyes, I have ears, and I have sense."
Some people inherit land, jewelry, or a family name. I inherited stories. Practical ones, funny ones, and some that seemed suspiciously aimed at whatever nonsense I happened to be up to that week. They always sounded random, until you realized they were perfectly targeted.
Those stories became my book, "Grandma Always Said". Eighteen chapters on integrity, boundaries, friendship, pride, fear, growth, forgiveness and more, each one carrying her voice. I wrote it to honor her, and to make sure wisdom like hers is not buried in silence.
Take a moment today. Think of the elder whose words still find you when you need them most: a grandmother, a teacher, an aunt, a neighbour. What did they always say?
If you would like to spend more time with Olisa, "Grandma Always Said" is available now. And if you read it and feel personally attacked, that probably means the lesson is working.
This is only the first whisper of a much longer song. Thank you for being here at the beginning.
With love, Emmah
