I CALL IT LIVING.

My story:
By, Simaloy.
As I lie down on my bed, facing the roof, my mind wonders off to the world I call ‘My past’
It is 3 o’clock on a Sunday afternoon. My son Immanuel and I are just from church. Today’s theme was ‘DON’T LET YOUR PAST DETERMINE YOUR FUTURE’
This sermon really got me thinking. To a point of taking me many years back, when all the pain began.
As a little girl by the age of 6, I was hit by a car on my way back from school. I was in my first grade. Admitted in hospital for close to a month then discharged.
By age 9, I was sexually abused by a male house help.
By the age 17 while pursuing my O levels, my step-parents were too consumed in alcohol that I had to work in a brothel after school in order to fund my education.
By the time I was about to do my final year exams, my parents, had me arrested for prostitution. In the cells I was beaten mercilessly by cops who had been well bribed to do so and again, sexually abused.
After O-levels, I got kicked out of home over a plate of French fries worth ½ a dollar that I had eaten in my step mother’s hotel without paying.
I ended up in one of the largest slums in Africa, Kibera. A gentleman took me in and took good care of me. Only to realize a year later that he had infected me with HIV KNOWINGLY!
Frustrations led me to heavy drinking, drug abuse and back to prostitution. One night, in my drug intoxication, on my way back to my shack after making no money, I was brutally raped on both sides.
I had had 3 abortions before but chose to keep this one even with awareness of my status.
Immanuel-jon-Zacchary. The source of my joy and the reason why everyday I look forward to tomorrow. Today, I volunteer as a radio presenter in the slums community radio. I share my experience to the public and encourage those living with HIV like Immanuel and I to face life positively and stay away from drugs.
My heart is into giving people, what I NEVER got. 12 years with living with HIV, my goal is, ‘leave the world a better place than I found it’
All thanks to my miracle baby, Immanuel