💔 A Father's Pain: Losing a Child at 20 and Finding Strength Through Struggle.

Have You Ever Lost a Child?

Well… that happened to me at 20 years old.

But before I get to that, let me take you back. Back to where it all began — in 2016, fresh out of Form Four. I had dreams, big ones. I even got into college, but life had other plans. Financial struggles hit hard, forcing me to drop out. That’s when reality slapped me in the face.

In 2017, I landed a low-paying job. How low? I earned 1,000 KSH a month — barely enough to survive. Still, I was determined to carve my own path, so I moved out of my parents’ house and rented a single room. My own space. My little corner of independence. But it didn’t last long. By 2018, I couldn’t keep up with rent and had to go back home, defeated. I stayed there for four months, plotting my next move.

Then came the bedsitter — 5,000 KSH a month. It felt like an upgrade, like a fresh start. Life had a way of throwing curveballs, though. That same year, I met Marly. She was 19. I was 20. Young, reckless, and in love — or at least what we thought was love at the time. When she got pregnant, she ran away from home to be with me. And just like that, I found myself “married” — not legally, but in every sense that mattered. I was a husband. I was about to be a father. And I was broke.

No stable job. No steady income. Just odd jobs and a dream of building something for myself. I tried everything — small businesses that crumbled before they could even stand. I got fired from my job, and the weight of responsibility came crashing down on me. Marly was pregnant. There was no time to feel sorry for myself. I had to provide.

Desperation breeds creativity. I found a way. I started a small business selling miraa (khat), and for the first time, things began to look up. The business picked up. I could breathe a little. We were finally getting by.

Then came December 24, 2019.

The day started like any other, but by evening, Marly began having labor pains. Panic. Chaos. My mom stepped in, and we rushed her to the hospital. Everything was a blur — nurses shouting, doctors rushing, and me… standing there, helpless. Hours passed. Sweat, fear, hope — all mixing together into one long, excruciating wait.

And then… silence.

The doctor came out. His face said it all before his words did. Our child didn’t make it. Just like that, the world stopped. I was 20 years old, holding Marly’s trembling hands, trying to be strong while my heart shattered into a million pieces.

I can’t explain what it feels like to lose a child. It changes you. It hardens some parts of you and softens others. I learned resilience. I learned patience. I learned that life doesn’t care about your plans — it’ll throw you to your knees and dare you to get back up.

This was just the beginning of my journey. A journey of falling, rising, and falling again — but never staying down. I’ll share more soon. For now, just know this: no matter how dark it gets, there’s always a way forward.

To be continued…