Since a lot of people wouldn’t believe me, I don’t share this tale very frequently. Some people might refer to it as luck. Some would accuse me of lying. However, I am aware of my reality, and perhaps this can inspire hope if you have ever felt hopeless, encircled by poverty, and without a clear path out. Rose is my name. In the little Kitui hamlet where I was raised, life was all hardship. We were raised in a mud home with roof leaks.
We occasionally ate once a day. On most days, we went to bed without eating. My mother was a peasant farmer, while my father worked as a casual labourer. Despite our diligence, poverty nevertheless followed us like a plague. In school, I was always the girl with the ripped uniform and the broken sandals. Despite my intelligence, life didn’t seem to care. I did well in Form Four, but there was no funding for college. To read more click here.
