I am writing this with a trembling hand, with tears dribbling from my eyes because of the pain and agony seated deep in my heart, all this stemming from my recent witness of how unfair life can get.
I am writing this with a trembling hand, with tears dribbling from my eyes because of the pain and agony seated deep in my heart, all this stemming from my recent witness of how unfair life can get.
Christopher Sebaabi, a 45-year-old potter wakes up very early in the morning to work at a close-by construction site, he labours all day and retires home late in the evening with a pea-nut wage only enough to fill his hungry belly with food, he uses a small-roomed shanty- house, with a leaking roof, cracked walls and floor for shelter.
A few years ago Christopher’s wife divorced because he couldn’t fend for her and the family financially, shortly after Christopher was double-hit, he lost his only daughter to malaria apparently because he couldn’t afford medical bills.
Now he is left alone in poverty and grief, without love, without comfort and only a bleak future lying ahead of him.
With that seen, I am of a thought that we are all entitled by birth to a good life, but when life is full of massive deprivation and uncertainty, gross misfortune and despair, it ceases to hold meaning .
It is highly ironic and pathetic that those people who strive to do whatever it takes to live a noble life are the ones who are still tied to poverty and suffering, I think life should get a little fair! People should not overwork themselves and only be paid frustration and left considering suicide as an option. There is no point in living when one does not feel valued or loved, when desires they regard as important are frustrated or crushed ,when their souls are riddled with agony pain.
In another scenario, Bosco Magara who worked hard from scratch to establish a powerful business empire didn’t live to enjoy the full fruits of his sweat. He left behind a big family which looked up to him for all sorts of assistance.
A few months later his business crumbled because its custodian was no more, the bank seized what was left of the property to repay the loan the late Magara had acquired, his children who had known no other life apart from luxury did not only drop out of school because of financial constraints but most of them ended up on the streets as beggars, to be precise, the Magara family was reduced to mere paupers.
It is so unfair that Bosco Magara who slaved to improve his family’s welfare died a premature death leaving his family wallowing in sorrow, pain, confusion, hopelessness and his property going to the dogs, I think Magara would turn in his grave if by any miraculous power saw his children on the streets begging, this is something he didn’t even slightly imagine could happen, because he had worked hard to prevent it but winds of fate didn’t wait to blow this away.
For people trying to give meaning to their lives by working hard but only die an abrupt and dishonorable death leaving their beloved ones in utter pain and helplessness is so discouraging and leaves me questioning whether life is worth living.