My story starts at the end and ends at the beginning. Growing up I have never known love nor acceptance. My first memory as a child was when I was five. I woke up to the sounds of screaming and yelling. My parents were fighting and there was furniture thrown everywhere.
Dad : ( shouting at mum) l want you out of my house you useless uneducated fool.l wonder why I married you.
l watch my mum cry from the corner of my eyes. That moment my dad comes and grabs me and goes outside towards our gate and he throws me outside and calls me a prostitutes daughter and left me there. It was midnight and I was scared. Later I spot my mother carrying my little brother who was only six months old by then. We cuddled near a bush and we slept there hoping and praying that it doesn't rain. I was only five but I prayed to the almighty to forgive my father. I told the Lord that my dad was just drunk and he was not aware of what he was doing. Little did I know that this was only the beggining of my life.