The Vicious Cycle

“Here we go again! It is always the same.”

Odhoch was so fed up of the so called ‘assistance’ he was receiveing from so called relatives. It had been ten years since his family passed away. Everyone he lived constantly reminded him that they were, “doing him a favour out of the kindness of their heart and he needed to be grateful”. He was. He never took their assistance for granted, but for some reason enslavement and restricted movement where his relatives M.O. towards him.

From household to household he moved; awoken at 5am to do all the house chores before he left for class. His cousins mistreated him and mocked him as the ‘poor boy’ nothing, his relatives would chorus, “would ever come out him”. He was constantly called “Mr. Doomed to fail”. Odhoch never took any of it to heart, it did hurt him, but he knew himself better. He only tolerated this out of the respect for his parents. He knew what his Mum would have told him.

“No one ever suffers for ever. The more people abuse you the more they are giving you their blessing.” It was an annoying truth that he needed to hold on to or he will lose it.

It had been three months at Aunt Helen’s she lived in Runda, never gave Odhoch bus fare, and worked him like a donkey at home. Odhoch wasn’t allowed to hang out with friends on weekends, he was only allowed out when he went to college, with no bus fare, no pocket money, Odhoch needed to get creative to make ends meet.

He started offering plumbing services in the neighbourhood. He typed out flyers and handed them out, gate to gate. He started getting calls and eventually started making about 5,000 shillings a week. Soon he began offering services as an electrician. That worked out great; he was now earning enough money to cover his bus fare to school and an occasional shopping spree. Odhoch also began to save thirty percent of his income.

Months came and went and Odhoch felt so much better, he could finally smile again. But something was about to happen that would change his fate all together. He was in his final year in campus, and had just come home. He walked in and found the entire family in the living room it was unusual for everyone to be there at 5pm sharp. Odhoch froze at the front door.

“Odhoch! Sit!” His aunt demanded.

Odhoch felt his bowels begin to loosen; he had a bad feeling about it. Then just as he sat, Sophie, the most irritating of his cousins, pulled out a chest. Odhoch’s saving chest where he would throw in his daily saving aside from his bank saving.

“Where did you get this money from?” His Uncle demanded to know.

“I have lost so much money over the past three months, and you seem to be getting more new clothses and shoes, it must be you stealing my pocket money. What is my savings chest doing in your room?”

Odhoch was so confused. What? They were implying he was a thief, who stole money from a girl who never saved a dime in her life? The same girl, who got 20,000 shillings a week as an allowance and by Wednesday would be asking for more? That girl? Odhoch was so confused he slumped on the chair stunned and lost for words. What was going to happen now? Where was he going to go? He needed to think.

His aunt and uncle were now tripping over themselves yelling at him and accusing him for stealing from their ‘princess’.

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