They say men are born to struggle, but some of us weren’t just born into it, we were swallowed whole by it.My name is John, and I was born and raised in the slums of Kiandutu in Thika. For most people, childhood means toys, school uniforms, and warm meals.
For me, it was torn vests, hunger pangs, and the sound of gunshots in the night. My first toy was an empty yogurt cup I’d found in a dump. My playground was a muddy alley between rusted mabati shacks.My mother left when I was three. My father was an alcoholic who came home either drunk or bleeding from a bar fight.To read more,click here
