Let me take you a few years back and give you a glimpse of how I found myself in this predicament. I come from a very humble background, a family of 6 kids 3 boys and 3 girls. Being the first born the pressure of being perfect and a role model to my younger siblings was instilled in me at a young age. I never complained or talked back to my parents, I was always perfect. I stayed in school, got good grades and made them so proud. One meal a day didn’t stop me from doing well in school. I soldiered on and I never asked for what I knew we couldn’t afford.
My father worked at the post office in a small town that was one hour away from our village. He retired when I finished my primary education. When the results came in, I had passed really well. But the look on his face was half proud and half disappointed. I knew they were hoping that I would fail so it would be easier for them to tell me to start farming like the majority of the boys in my village. At the same time, he was so proud because I was leading in the whole district.
Watching them going from church to church asking for help broke my heart into a thousand pieces, I almost gave up. One day my father came back with a piece of paper in his hand and for once in his life, he was smiling. “Kuna bursary zinatolewa, nime apply na am sure utapata” he said still smiling. The following month I joined a national high school with one pair of uniform, my old father’s shoes and a backpack. My shopping consisted of the small powder soap, the small toothpaste, one roll of tissue and 200 shillings from my father.
I almost cried when I saw students getting dropped at school, I’ve never seen so many cars in my life. If that feeling didn’t explode my heart, nothing ever will. I lowered my gaze, copped and stayed out of trouble like I was instructed by my parents.
I did so well in my final exam and got a HELB loan then joined a public University. I majored in Bcom. In my fourth year, my uncle came into my life which was strange because he was never around whenever we needed him. He is among the “watu wa Nairobi” whenever he visited the village for a family gathering, wedding or funeral. And those were the only times we would see him. He contacted me and I must admit he made my life on campus a little bit easier. The pocket money was coming in handy, the weekend getaways with his family made me feel like part of the family. It was nice. For once in my life, I felt like I was living and not surviving.
After school, he made sure I got an internship at a Bank where he worked as the branch manager. Six months later, I was hired with a good salary and that’s when everything went left. With my salary, I managed to get an apartment at a posh estate in Eastlands. I bought some expensive furniture, changed my whole wardrobe and the weekend parties were a must.
If I could edit a chapter in my life, I would remove the day he called me.