The memory of my days in Mombasa’s Kizingo still sends chills through me. A village girl turned housemaid, I toiled in a rich family’s home. Before dawn, I scrubbed floors, laundered clothes, and cooked endless meals. By nightfall, my body screamed in pain, but instead of gratitude, I faced cruel taunts. My employer sneered, “Without me, you’d be nothing, starving back in your village.” Her children flaunted designer shoes, while I couldn’t afford market cast-offs.
My meagre wages barely sustained me and my family, leaving no room for dreams. The worst part? The relentless humiliation crushed my spirit, making me feel unseen and worthless. Nights were spent in silent tears, pleading with God, “Am I doomed?” I sensed my own potential but felt trapped, every opportunity barred. Life seemed a merciless cage. Then, a friend quietly shared a name that shifted my fate: Dr. Bokko. That whisper sparked a transformation, opening doors I never thought possible and setting me on a path to reclaim my worth. To read more, click here.
