The Freedom Writters.
When
I lost my dad, people said I would never make it…the funny thing is
that all this began at the graveside even before the burial was
complete. I was too young to understand all this but this later came to
make meaning in my life as I grew up. My dad’s time was up and he had done his fair share of raising me up; He’d taken me to a good school, I had a stable foundation in English
spoken and most of all left me a loving mother. Situations made me
understand that life had it bitter part, but that didn’t stop me from
believing that it was indeed possible to grow out of it and establish a
better life that will in turn be appreciated later on in the years to
come. Yes I was born of the rich but was raised in the slums of Mathare,
but I didn’t let that really get into me to really affect my life even
though it too had its fare share of influence in my life, but some
people helped me choose better, and I will live to forever appreciate
this individuals: God, my mum and my preschool teacher Mr. Masaku.
The slums of Mathare was into different
sections…Area one, Area two, Area three, Area four, Mathare four A. In
this areas were a group of young boys and girls. Belonging to one of
these groups could either make you become safe or unsafe. There was no
room for betrayal. Safe in the sense that when you are in your area
you’d feel secure and you would enjoy all the benefits of being a
member; like playing ball, the girls company and many more, and unsafe
in the sense that once identified as a member of a given group you could
not find your way into a different area even when sent by parents. Our
parents weren’t aware of what used to happened at the ground level, we
were the once who felt the heat, when bruised during a fight we would
find a way of hiding the truth from them. We could say we got hurt
playing ball or just come up with something depending on the type of
hurt. Every season and situation had its own excuse and we knew how to
structure our words to fit in. It all Started like this, characters
being natured and this would lead to a greater form of diversification
in the conflict groups. I remember at some point I had issues with my
members, Men!!! The world became too small for me, there’s nothing I
could have done without anyone following or bugging me. They were all
over. We used to live in a three storey building and it had one gate,
which was the entry and exit point. I couldn’t use it otherwise I faced
the risk of having being caught and being beaten. A onetime thorough
beating never meant It all ended there, nope, every time they’d catch
you they would do the ‘good work’ on you, for this reason I had to find
my own way of getting in and out of the building unnoticed…Mum used to
get back from work so tired and had to run some of her errands, so
electric poles and balcony rails served as my gate. I knew that was
against the regulations and if the watchman found me I would have a
beating but I would rather go for his as compared to the gang. More will
be talked about in my book yet to be released ‘My testimony’ please like my Facebook page and sign up for our monthly news later to be updated, and as bid you I leave you with below videos.
