I Lived This Life… And I Survived

There was a time I lived in Nairobi with my wife and our two sons. We stayed in a small, struggling house—rent was only Ksh. 2,000, yet even that felt impossible to raise.

I was trying. Every single day, I went out to hustle. But most days, I came back with nothing.

My wife… she became our pillar. She was a teacher in a private school, but her salary was never certain. Some months she was paid, other months she wasn’t. Still, she carried us. She paid rent when she could. And through it all—she never complained.

But life was hard.

We were always behind on rent. The landlord kept coming. Many times, I was taken to the chief’s office in Kayole. I became a familiar face there. Imagine that—being known not for success, but for struggle.

Then one night, everything hit the lowest point.

It was around 9 p.m. I had just walked all the way from Mlolongo to Kayole. No money. No food. No hope. Just exhaustion and silence.

When I reached home, they were already at my door.

They took me again—to the chief’s office. This time, it was final. I was to be evicted immediately.

I sat there… broken.

Not just tired—but defeated.

I could barely speak. My spirit was empty.

I remember a moment before that night, when I looked at my wife and told her to leave me. I told her to take the children and go… because I felt like I was wasting her life.

But she refused.

She looked at me and said she was not complaining.

That broke me even more.

In that moment, I made a promise:
“If we ever come out of this, I will never leave your side.”

And I have kept that promise.
Because that woman covered my shame for many years.

That night at the chief’s office, the senior chief looked at me for a long time. Then he asked me, “Do you have land back home?”

I said no.

He told me to go back to the village. He said the life I was living was embarrassing… that I should go rebuild my dignity.

Those words were heavy.

But deep inside me… something refused to die.

A quiet voice kept whispering:
“Not yet… not yet… your story is not over.”

I held on to that voice.

Today, I stand as a living testimony that pain does not have the final word.

Life will push you.
It will strip you of dignity.
It will expose your weaknesses and test your strength.

But if you hold on—if you keep your faith, if you refuse to give up—God will meet you in that darkness.

What I went through did not destroy me.

It built me.

And the rest… is history.

With love and gratitude,
Your future self,
Collins Otieno