For years, people in my estate knew me as “that man who always borrows .” It wasn’t funny.
Every morning, I would wake up, iron my one good shirt, and leave the house pretending I was going to work, yet I had no job. My children’s school fees kept piling up, and sometimes we survived on tea and mandazi.
The worst part? My younger brother, whom I once helped pay college fees for, was now buying plots and driving big cars.I tried everything, small businesses, loans from friends, even those chama contributions, but nothing worked. It was as if money hated me.One evening, as I was walking home with nothing in my pocket, I overheard two men whispering.To read more,click here
