When it rains it pours

In the fall of 2016, a heavy cloud of sadness descended upon my world. It was on October 25th, a day etched into my memory, when I received the news that my beloved uncle had passed away. The news struck me like a thunderbolt, leaving me numb and speechless.

I was just a young soul navigating the challenging waters of Form 1 in the Kenyan education system, trying to find my footing in a new phase of life. But my uncle had been a steadfast anchor, guiding me and my cousins through the maze of growing up. He was not merely a relative; he was a father figure, a friend, and a mentor all rolled into one. I even wanted to do law because it was his passion and he also had the hopes of doing it, I wanted to fulfil his dreams.

The emotions that flooded me were a mix of profound sadness, disbelief, and an overwhelming sense of loss. The void left by his absence seemed unfillable, as if a piece of my heart had been taken away. I remembered all the times he had been there for me, offering his wisdom, support, and unwavering love.

Grief wrapped around me like a heavy shroud, making it difficult to focus on anything else. Memories of our shared laughter, the lessons he had imparted, and the warmth of his presence flooded my mind. The realization that I would no longer have the chance to seek his guidance or hear his soothing words left a gaping ache in my chest.

But as days turned into weeks, and then into months, I began to realize that the impact he had on my life was too powerful to be erased by his physical absence. His teachings, his love, and the strength he had instilled in me continued to live on. While the pain of losing him never truly vanished, it transformed into a bittersweet reminder of the depth of our bond.

Through the years, I've come to understand that the emotions I experienced after losing him were a testament to the profound love we shared. The sadness may have waned, but the memories and lessons he left behind remain as a beacon of light guiding me through life's challenges. And though he may no longer be with me in person, his spirit lives on in the love and strength he cultivated within me and my cousins.

the timing of his death struck us unaware as financial wrangles were to follow suit. The business he had started failed as it was embroiled in a situation of lack of funds. My cousins and I were at limbo as school fees, rents, hostel fees, upkeep were all due but no means of being settled.

I remember vividly when auctioneers flocked our house barely two months after his death. Being a young boy I could not fully comprehend what was happening but I knew nothing was going right.

We had to vacate the place I called home for about 11 years. The hardest part was saying good by to all my friends. They were sad by our sudden decision but fully understood that we had to cut our coat according to the cloth. We shall forever have memories of playing together with the hope of meeting sometime and some stage sooner in our lives.

We moved to kahawa area in Nairobi. Here I have to accept that settling in was hard. Life back in Kileleshwa seemed so easy while in Kahawa it was the complete opposite as you could smell the hardship from a afar. I had to use this opportunity as a stepping stone to my greatness and to learn valuable lessons like, do not take things for granted and always give thanks to God for everything.