I look back; the struggles, toil and moil I endured in my youthful days.
I have come a very long way and have overtaken hurdles in life; from pulling carts in the streets of the Kenya's capital, Nairobi, to sleeping in some backstreet trenches and feeding on leftovers from hotels and restaurants bins.
I came to Nairobi hanging at the back of a truck from a remote village in Eldoret Uasin Gishu County. The truck was transporting maize to different points in Nairobi; Nyamakima was one of those points.
The lorry got here at night. Men and women seemed have been waiting for the delivery. Some were smartly dressed casually while the majority were in somewhat tattered dustcoats.
The bags of maize were to be packed in the stores; men lined up to at least get approved to shoulder the bags. This is where I began working. I had lined up and by luck, I was tapped and immediately offered my back for the huge bags and getting them to the first floor of the plaza where the store was.
I was hungry and cold had gotten to my chest. I staggered as I lifted the fifteenth bag; I had barely taken three stairs up before I felt extremely weak, the bag fell and I rolled hitting the wall behind me...