Life at Kayole, Nairobi and the Shameful Practices That Changed My Story
My name is Joseph Otieno. I live in Nairobi, and this is my story of struggle, shame, and later, hope.
I came to Nairobi in 2014 with big dreams. I believed the city had opportunities for anyone ready to work hard. I got a job as a shop attendant in Eastleigh. The pay was small, but I was proud because I could pay rent and send something small to my mother upcountry.
In 2016 I married my wife, Lydia. Life felt like it was moving forward. But after one year, things started going wrong. The shop closed suddenly. I stayed without a job for months. Rent piled up. We were locked out of our single room. We moved to stay with a friend in Kayole.
I tried everything — boda boda riding, selling phone covers, even hawking socks in town. Each job started with hope and ended quickly. Either business was too slow or I got chased away by county officers. Many nights we slept hungry. My wife would pretend she had eaten so I could take the last plate.
By 2018, stress had entered our marriage. We argued over small things. Debts grew. Friends stopped picking my calls. I felt like the city had rejected me.
In 2019 we got a child, a baby girl. Instead of joy, I felt fear. I kept asking myself, “How will I raise this child when I cannot even feed myself well?” That year was the hardest. I moved between short casual jobs — mjengo today, car wash tomorrow, nothing next week.
“I was in a point where lack of food was the order of the day, infact I even approached my friend of mine demanding that he give us beans and maize to sleep with my wife for a night.”
In 2021, after another failed kiosk business, I almost gave up trying new things. Everywhere I turned, doors closed. I remember sitting outside a closed stall one evening and crying quietly so nobody would see me.
A former neighbor found me there. He told me, “Joseph, sometimes you need guidance, not just struggle. Talk to Dr Bokko. He helped me organize my life when everything was scattered.”
