I can still recall the day my son asked me why our house had a cracked mud floor and other children’s houses had shiny tiles. I told him that one day, things would be different, but I didn’t believe it because I had become accustomed to the dust, the polythene-packed windows, and the tin roof that creaked in the wind.
I’m Ruth, and I used to reside in a little community outside of Rongo. My spouse and I put in a lot of labour. I was a roadside vegetable vendor, and he was a boda rider. Our combined salary was insufficient to support our goals, let alone provide for the family. Nevertheless, I had a dream. One day, I hoped to construct a respectable home. The house should feature tiled floors, electricity, and running water. a house where my kids could go barefoot without worrying about their feet getting injured by jiggers or fractured concrete. To read more click here.