When our mother died, my brother, Kabiru, became my whole world.
He was the only family I had left, the only person who could protect me in a world that seemed determined to crush us both.
But life on the streets was hard. Kabiru knew that he had to provide for us, but he couldn’t find work anywhere. So he did what he had to do. He started stealing and hustling to make ends meet.
It was a dangerous game, and we were constantly on the run.
We had to dodge the authorities and other criminals who saw us as easy targets.
But no matter how tough things got, Kabiru was always there for me. He would shield me from harm, risking his own life to keep me safe.
I remember the nights when we had nothing to eat but scraps of food we found in the trash. We would huddle together, shivering in the cold, and Kabiru would tell me stories to take my mind off our hunger. He was always so strong and brave, even when everything around us seemed to be falling apart.
One day i will become like Kabiru
Looking back on those days, I realize how much we relied on each other. Kabiru was my protector, my guide, my everything.
And even though we’ve come so far since then, I will never forget the lessons we have learned on those mean streets. We have learned to be resilient, to be resourceful, and, most of all, never give up on each other.