From Penzi to Mt. Kenya: How One FTS Guide Is Bringing Forest Therapy Into Community Care

In this Guide Spotlight, Jacqualine “Jacky” Kowa shares, in her own words, how forest therapy has moved through her life, family, and community in Kenya.

A seed already planted

I am a community development mentor, especially in women and children projects. I do not have a full-time job, since COVID. I currently support my small community-based organization with personal savings, from small training jobs I will get. I also farm and sell produce depending on the season.

My women organization has a wellness component. Women in my village suffer from high HIV/AIDS rate, gender-based violence, and women need a safe space to heal and breathe.

Forest therapy has been my dream since COVID.

Indeed, as a group of 25 women currently, we saved money and own a one-acre land, full of trees. Yoga and forest healing will be part of it. Assisting the rural woman to breathe and make better informed decisions about their reproductive health and economic life.

This way we are building a forest therapy tribe, women as the lead.

I wake up at 4am to bathe myself in the stillness of the earth. In my village, 5am the birds begin to sing. I sing with them.

Birds have built 15 nests so far around my roof corners and are now occupying the trees around my house. Listening to them singing heals my heart.

They say that even when it’s dry outside, my compound is green. I tell them I sing and dance in the rain and love my feet on the soil. They laugh.

I planted 10 trees during COVID, which now give me shade, and I find eternal peace and joy when enjoying the shade it gives. I pray as the sun rises and as it sets right before my eyes.

Nature is part of me. It took me so much time to know this. Now that I know, I will share what I know to my fellow women as well.

A practice takes form

My Growth Rings Journal took time to be found, but in the end, it was absolutely meaningful.

Where I live, palm trees surround us. Their dried branches often fall and are burned. In one of my sit spot moments, during the smell invitation, the scent of the burning branches made me pause and reflect on how I could give back.

That moment sparked an idea.

I waited for a bigger dried branch to fall one day. My daughter and I gently straightened the arms of branches. She looked like a graceful and strong woman.

We named her Penzi, meaning “love” in Swahili.

I wrote my reflective learnings on cards to capture lessons from each module, and my daughter crocheted strings to hold them on Penzi’s arms.

Now, Penzi stands as a quiet reminder to pause, breathe, and simply be.

Soul Walk: The mountain and the lesson of slowness.

For my soulful walk, the Mountains called, and I am glad that I listened.

I climbed Mt. Kenya Point Lenana, third highest peak at altitude 4900M above sea level. It took us 3 days. I had no hiking experience and have never been in a temperature past 17 degrees Celsius.

I was the slowest to reach the campsites each day. Somehow, they told me that each day they knew that I would not pull through the next day.

In my body, mind and soul I thought I did great.

I would stop to pause and breathe, invited myself to explore all my senses as I moved on. This kept me going.

I had never seen such beauty in my life. I have never known such peace, almost everlasting peace.

It was a team of 10 people. Only two of us summited the Mountain.

They asked me how I did it. I explained during our last meal that it was purely internal and nature just did its work, replenished.

Now they understood why I reached the camp later than everyone else, every day.

I went all in to cultivate the beginner’s mind and letting go. The Mountain and the forest gave back. I saw my signs and I made some choices of how I would like to impact the world.

Now, I understood why the Mountain called, and I listened. I am so glad I did.

I am now a better being. I feel reconnected with nature and ready to share it with my community.

I went in empty, expecting nothing, and I came out whole.

I found me.

I feel blessed. I feel grateful.

The first ripples

The day after graduation, I shared the news with a team I was training. They gave me 15 minutes to introduce forest therapy, which led to a spontaneous 1 hour and 30-minute mindful session with 15 young people.

We explored listening, sight, and heartfelt invitations.

It wasn’t a forest, but the compound had trees and their presence was enough.

The feedback was deeply encouraging. In the days that followed, I saw the youth returning to find sit spots around the compound, pausing, breathing, and reflecting.

One young person later asked me if I’d cast a spell or used voodoo on them. I smiled and told him it was simply his own heart, and that it had been waiting for him to listen.

A week later, his mother called me to say he had changed. He now sits quietly outside for nearly an hour each day, just walking the compound. She said he is calmer.

That conversation gave me so much hope for human kindness and connection in the future.

Another young woman submitted a proposal to create a men’s safe space in their youth center, where others can enjoy sit spot moments.

And at home, sit spot has become a culture. My daughter spends at least 30 minutes outside each day, just sitting or walking around the garden.

Through my own sit spots, I’ve discovered 21 weaver bird nests around our home. I now know their rhythms, when they wake up flapping their wings, when they fly out from their nests and start to sing, when they fly off, and when they return.

There’s no place I’d rather be than here, in my heart.

Some days, I don’t want to leave the house, because it means wearing shoes. The joy of touching soil and grass with my bare feet has become sacred.

Without planning it, this barefoot ritual has also become our family culture. My children and I walk and play in the garden barefoot each evening, even while watering the plants. We’ve seen our vegetables flourish, and we understand why.

We smile.

What impact looks like

This new version of myself is more humble, patient, and kind to all beings. I no longer worry about tomorrow. I live in the now, and in that space, I find joy and gratitude.

Even with ongoing financial challenges, I am happy.

My heart is home.

Nowadays, when my heart invites me to stop and greet a tree, I do. Even when others look at me as if I’m a little strange, I smile and continue. Each tree I greet feels like a friend, with whom I share quiet, meaningful, mindful conversations.

In July, I’ll be facilitating a women’s retreat with 10 participants. I’ve already submitted a proposal to guide them through a mindful compound walk.

I’m now slowly branding myself to launch a consultancy focused on training young women and youth in reproductive health, with a new layer of self-awareness woven in, inspired by this journey.

I also facilitated a walk for two young people, ages 19 and 20, at Kaya Kinondo National Monument, Kwale County, Kenya. They are part of a larger team of champions who have chosen to live positively with HIV.

The plan is to start with the leaders, who will become my forest therapy guide assistants for the next walks with the bigger team.

Guiding them was deeply fulfilling. The intimate size of the group created space for deeper presence, conversation, and observation. The youth were really curious with the forest, open, and engaged, asking a lot of questions.

I noticed a natural slowing down in their pace as we slowly moved on, and also in their attention to nature. I noticed how the land responded to our stillness and how the young leaders began to relax into that safety.

They gave inspiring feedback during our tea, and they were so eager to share the journey with the others.

Beginner’s Mind: This is big for me. I approached the walk with fresh eyes, letting go of expectations. I reminded myself to meet these young people without assumptions. This allowed me to be more present and responsive to the group’s needs. Their wonder reminded me to also rediscover the forest afresh.

Non-Judging: I stayed open and allowed the walk to unfold without pressure. I allowed a lot of silence.

Letting Go: I released control over how things should go. When a moment didn’t follow the plan, I trusted the process and let it flow. I let go of my script and allowed my intuition to lead.

Thanks to you, I now live a life filled with purpose and meaning. I’m so grateful for meeting you in what still feels like a spiritual encounter. Thank you for believing in me and granting me the scholarship that allowed me to walk this path.

My Wednesdays are now “My Soul Walk Wednesday.” Sacred time for reflection, inspired by the community of women I walked with during the course.

And as I begin my guiding journey, be sure I will be back with updates and questions.

With deep gratitude,

Jacky