I’m Sorry


I like villains. Pariahs. Outlaws. They never experiment with hats, they wear the same hats. They ride horses (or drive old grey cars with faulty driver’s windows) in the gloom of darkness, fleeing another sunrise. They sit desolate in the corner of small charmless cafes, their reflections sombre in their tepid coffees. They wear stubbles like badges they don’t deserve. They knock on women’s doors at the darkest hour of the night, hands hidden in old coats with upturned collars and they make love to them in a frenzy before they are completely out of their clothes. They never sit by ponds staring at ducks or pet strangers’ dogs’ heads because they have the emotional maturity of a faulty padlock. They always have a cigarette lighter in their breast pockets but never enough cigarettes. Sure, they die, eventually, like we all do, but they have a lot of fun first. And when they die the story ends, which means they controlled the narrative from the opening act. Without them the heroes would be rudderless, doing nothing but mowing their lawns and spending too much time shaving at sinks with broken mirrors.

This story is about a girl, yes, but her story emerges from the story of a villain. They are horse and carriage. Yin and Yang. Nameless and his goddamn durag.

“I liked him more than he liked me,” she tells me. She wants to be called Syombua, meaning ‘Born in the rainy season.’ She’s referring to Rono whom she met during a wedding committee for her friend. “He was the transport manager.” He had a girlfriend at the time.  One of those chicks called Linda or Emma. The wedding came. She sang in church. The groom kissed the bride, cake was cut, people from shags danced in their ill-fitting suits, then the fat lady sang. A few months later she heard that Rono had broken up with Linda or Emma, and because she comes from the school of thought that one must grab the bull by its horns, she got his number and rang him one evening when she was feeling particularly ballsy. They met up. She asked him, “Do you not remember me? I was on the wedding committee?” He was blank. “I sang during the wedding!” She said. He couldn’t recall. So he had to go back to the wedding videos to see her.  At that time he was in a weird place of transition and heartbreak. He was hitting the bottle, a lot. Turns out he really liked Emma or Linda.

We are seated at the very back of the cafe’s terrace. Nestled by her elbow is a purse the colour of fresh blood straight from a cow’s neck. It looks so red it could have fit in a violent crime scene of the TV drama series; Why Women Kill. She has these small silver earrings the shape of fish. I bet as she dressed up for this meeting she thought, OK, this guy is from the lakeside, let me wear these earrings, it’s bound to break the ice and get the conversation going. It’s akin to me wearing a necklace with a pendant of a potato (or a coin) to meet someone from Central. Or a yellow shirt to meet someone from Kisii – because it might remind them of a banana. But then I thought, perhaps fish might just be her spirit animal which I now suspect could be the case seeing as we ended up really having a laugh at an intense moment of truth.

“I think he sort of tolerated me at the beginning when we started dating in 2016,” she says. “Then he eventually started liking me. But I definitely liked him more.” A few months into the relationship she peed on a stick and it turned two ticks. He was away drinking that evening. He was always away drinking. She lay in darkness like a predator and waited for him to come home. At around 1am she heard him stumbling up the staircase like a wounded animal. She opened the door for him. He was drunk. He had a bottle of alcohol in his hand. She broke the news to him right there at the door before he crossed the threshold. “You are kidding,” that’s what he said, deadpan. “He likes saying that, ‘You are kidding.’,“ she tells me. “But he wasn’t fazed at all. Nothing fazes him. You could fall down here and die and Rono would not be fazed.”

He said, “Let’s go in.” He placed the bottle of alcohol on the table then went to the bathroom. She sat waiting, hearing him pee loudly like people who have been drinking pee. She then served him food and watched him eat, feeling nauseous. After, he took his plates back to the kitchen and came back with two glasses and poured drinks in them. “I’m pregnant,” she told him again, “I can’t drink.” He said, “Who am I going to be drinking with, you are betraying me.” She left him in the living room, drinking, and went to bed. In the morning she woke up to him gently shaking her awake. “Did you say you are pregnant last night?” he asked her again. She blinked and asked, what time is it? He said, a little after 6am. “Are you pregnant?” He asked again. She said yes.

“Are you kidding?” He asked.

She rolled her eyes.

“Well,” he was shirtless, “What are you going to do about it?”

“Me?” She asked.


“What am I going to do about it?”


“I will keep it,” she told him, “I don’t think my conscience would allow me to terminate it.”

He said, “Sawa if that’s what you want.”

“At that point I should have known what lay ahead,” she says. “You know, my relationship with my mom has never been good and I was worried that if she knew I was pregnant she would die of shame. I was brought up a Christian. She wouldn’t forgive me for having a child out of wedlock.” So they met her parents before it started showing then they officially moved in together into a house in Donholm. She bought new curtains and started a new life. He, on the other hand, continued with his old life; drinking and coming home very late. “I thought it was normal for a man to drink and come home very late. I never complained. I never made any noise about it,” she says, “I thought that’s how you made a good marriage, by giving him space to do what he liked. ”

“What kind of a home did you grow up in?” I ask.

“My parents – now no longer together – never spoke. Actually, I can’t ever remember them sitting together to have a conversation. There was no physical abuse but there was a lot of shouting. My parents yelled at each other a lot.” She continues.

Rono loved carpentry. He’d left the country for the UK to study IT and came back and started pursuing his passion for wood. He opened a small carpentry shop in a place called  Kamulu where he was off to a lot mulling over his dovetails and tongue-and-groove joints.

She endured most of the pregnancy alone. He was never there, always working or drinking. When she was eight months along she told him, ‘You are never around for me. I’m alone in this pregnancy.’ ‘Don’t say that’, he said with a most apologetic look.

“He’s the most chill person you will ever meet. Such a gentle soul,” she says, “Even when I was so mad at him, he’d just say, ‘I’m sorry,’ with such innocence and it would soften me up. He is the least aggressive person I know. The least. If you are so mad at him, you can’t stay mad at him for too long. For example, let me tell you how I gave birth.” One early morning, when she was eight months pregnant, she woke up in pain and went to the loo and when she wiped herself she saw blood. “I went back to the bedroom to wake him up. I told him, ‘Rono, I’m bleeding, I think the baby is coming!’” You know what he told me? ‘You are kidding.” She laughs. “He said, he wanted to see the blood to confirm, so we went back to the loo and I wiped myself as he stood there but there was no blood this time. He said, ‘You are playing,’ then he went back to bed but I was sure the baby was coming so I pestered him to go look for a cab. He was hangied because he had come home at 4am. He grudgingly left to look for a cab at around 6am and came back at 7:30am… without a cab. I asked him, ‘What took you so long, where is the cab?’ He said he couldn’t find a cab. I said, ‘For one and a half hours?!’” He said, ‘I’m sorry.’”

She gave birth a few hours after that. He brought her home the following day at 6pm. She was famished. “He offered to get me food so he left and came back at midnight with chips and chicken. I said, I don’t think I should be having chips and chicken, I just have birth! He said, I’m sorry, just eat this. I will give you soup in the morning.”

“What did you first like about him,” I ask.

“He was bald. I like balding men. I think it’s sexy,” she says. “He’s like you, dark.”

“Chocolate is the word I believe you are looking for.”

She laughs very loudly then places her hand over her heart.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Forgiven – don’t do it again.”

Still laughing. “He is chocolate. He loves soccer like I do. He’s a Chelsea fan. He also loves rugby, he played rugby.”

“Big guy.”

“No, actually he isn’t.”

“So he’s one of those guys who is lifted up to grab the ball during the Line Out?”

She chuckles. “I just know he isn’t ati big.”

Anyway, from that point it all went downhill fast.

“We were two inappropriate people trying to raise a child; a drunk person and a confused person. I’m surprised this baby is still alive,” she says. “I think I was unknowingly suffering from postpartum depression. Also I’d rather have a long painful labour than have mastitis again. I was struggling with the baby and my emotions while he was constantly away at his workshop or in a bar. His business was not doing well so one day he said, ‘I can’t take care of you anymore, I’m sending you to my parents in Eldoret.’”

Off she went to Eldoret to live on a big farm. It was a terrible time. “I spent a lot of time in the bedroom, crying.” She was bitter with him, with the baby, with herself. She didn’t know his parents, she didn’t have friends, she was just alone with a baby attached to her painful breasts. After two months she came back. A week later the landlord locked her out with the baby because Rono – who was away in Meru making desks for schools – hadn’t paid rent for a few months. When the landlord’s wife intervened, asking her husband to at least let her take her baby’s formula, the landlord beat the wife. He allowed her in for the night. The next day she was homeless. Her friend took her in in Gachie, where she stayed for six months before she became guilty of being a deadweight and grudgingly moved to the village in Makueni where her mom lived. “I thought I’d just become a village girl, forget to speak English and just forget all my dreams.”

It was a tough time. Makueni isn’t exactly a beach. “I kept yelling at the baby. There was never enough food and I was constantly hungry and miserable. When the baby was sick at night and she couldn’t breath I didn’t know what to do, or how to make her stop crying. I was so angry. I’d often wonder if Rono was drinking, if he was asleep, if he ate at night, if he was okay. So I’d call him and I’d find that he was okay and that would make me so mad and because I don’t know how to yell at anyone, I’d tell him that I was doing badly and that I was struggling with the baby and I was desperate for help and he’d say gently, “I’m sorry.” And that would be that.”

One day – with no end in sight – she decided she’d kill herself and end this humiliation of poverty. She called her pastor one evening and told him that was the final call she was making. “You get to a point of such great hopelessness where you think nobody cares whether you live or die, that nobody will notice your absence. What stopped me from killing myself wasn’t even my baby, it was the pastor; he was really heartbroken to hear that I wanted to die. Genuinely heartbroken. It made me think that at least one, just one person cared, and can you imagine that’s what made me not die?”


“I know; sometimes you just need to know one person cares.”

The dark clouds parted briefly to let in sunlight; she was invited for a receptionist/ admin interview in Nairobi so she packed her baby and came back to Nairobi. She didn’t have any presentable clothes to attend an interview in. Her friend lent her a turtle neck top and pants and her high heels that pinched her toes. It was a real estate firm.

She had little hope of acing it. She was interviewed by a lady and when she was told to say something about herself, she broke down and couldn’t stop crying. She had forgotten her good parts, parts that weren’t shameful, desperate and inadequate. She started crying because someone was curious to know about her. Someone wanted to know her. She was still human. She sat there in borrowed clothes and borrowed shoes that hurt and she said how tough it’s been. Just how desperate it’s been. How worthless it’s been. And she cried through all that. Really cried. As she rode the lift downstairs the lady called her and asked her if she could start the following Monday.  She took her baby back to her mom with the promise to come back for her after she got a place of her own.


“No matter how hard I worked,” she mumbles, “After sending back money to my mom to feed my baby, I didn’t have anything left to buy anything. The dream of getting my own place slipped further and further away from me and with it my daughter. I felt like I had abandoned her in the village. I missed her. I wondered if she would forget me. Guilt started eating at me slowly, that and not being able to make something better of my life. I started taking longer to get out of bed. I couldn’t eat. At work I was a zombie; I forgot things, I stared into space. At night I lay awake until dawn. A friend of mine, Martin, knew of a place I could get counselling at a reduced price, so I started attending the sessions. The therapist helped me see my life differently when she asked me, is your child in a forest? Have you done what you are able to do for her? Have you abandoned her? It helped.”


Meanwhile Rono’s life was also unravelling. He had moved back to his parents’ home, married, had a child and separated from his wife. In 2019, after almost a year, her mom said, come for this baby, I’m done. So she went back for her baby. “Then two interesting things happened; my colleague who had moved in with her boyfriend then said, ‘Use my house, I’m never there anyway.’ So I moved into a fully furnished house with my baby.” She says. “The second thing that happened was Covid. I lost my job.” She has been jobless for a while now and it’s very tough for her.


What caught my attention when she emailed me was a line she wrote, she said how lonely she was. I now ask her to describe this loneliness and she almost starts tearing up.

“You know, I’m not supposed to be saying that I’m desperate and lonely because it’s not cool in this era of feminism where we are supposed to be strong,” she sniffs. “But I’m really not strong. I don’t know how to be strong anymore. The day I read your post LITTLE JUDASSES, about that lady in Kansas I was planning to just drop off my baby at a stranger’s house and walk away like I never knew her. Do you know how far down in life you have to fall as a mother to want to give away your child because you have admitted that you can’t take care of her anymore?” She says. “I feel like I have failed her. I won’t be able to take her to school. I can barely feed her. The house we live in will soon be taken because the owner has been more than generous and generosity isn’t endless. Where will I go with a baby? People say when you have a child she can be your best friend. Kids are kids and parents are parents. I spend my whole days in the house with her, just the two of us. We play games. We watch TV. We take walks. We eat together. We sleep together. I have no other life. Apart from my sister I don’t talk to anyone else. I miss adult companionship. I wait for my child to go to sleep then I sit and drink Konyagi, alone. I don’t drink to enjoy my drink, I just drink because there is nothing else to do. I have no confidence left in me. None. I second guess myself. When you replied to my email I wondered why you even bothered? Who would want to speak to me? Who would be interested in my life? I have nothing. Do you know how long it took me to decide what I would wear to meet you? I thought, what if I say something stupid, something unintelligent because I haven’t had adult conversation in so long? What if he stands up and leaves? I can’t tell you the last time I sat at a table with someone like I’m doing now. Having juice. Someone listening to me.” She shakes her head and chuckles.


“I miss someone texting me in the morning just to say, ‘Good morning, how did you sleep?’ Just that. I’ve forgotten how to be kissed or to be touched by a man. I wouldn’t know how to converse with a man. When I’m drunk and I’m fearful that my life is over, wasted and I’m very bitter, I drunk-dial Rono and I want to tell him how he has failed me, how he has failed his daughter and how hopeless we are as parents how hopeless he is as a father but when he comes on the phone I don’t tell him all these things. It’s not the kind of person I am. I don’t hurt people – even those who hurt me.”

That cuts me. I stretch my legs under the table and look away.

“This is not me. I love singing but I can’t bear to hear the sound of my voice anymore. I have a guitar at home, my daughter always says, ‘Mom, play for me a song’. I can’t bear to pick the guitar up. I love reading, I really love reading but I can’t read. The only thing I read now, and I’m not flattering you, Biko, is your blog every Tuesday. I love tea but I can take six cups and not taste it anymore. It’s like everything I loved has been sucked away from me. I’m different. I’m empty. I cry a lot when my daughter has gone to sleep. My daughter, she’s four, is a handful. When I punish her, I never know if it’s driven by anger or by the need to correct her. We walk daily and when I walk with her, I feel like I’m walking a puppy to kill her energy, because I can’t deal with her. I’m exhausted as a mother, being a woman. Sometimes when I’ve had enough, I stand at our balcony to just breathe in deeply. Below is a road and when I see people walking down the road laughing, I wonder how they can laugh. It seems strange to me that people can have joy in them to be able to laugh. I’m sorry, I’m talking a lot….”

“It’s cool,” I say. We sit there in a brief silence. I say nothing. I wait. She says nothing.

“These guys have a burger thing today, buy one get one free…” I say to break the silence, “You want one for you and your baby?”

She smiles bravely, glad that she didn’t cry. I’m also glad she didn’t cry.




If you are hiring or know someone who is hiring. Extend a hand to this lady. She’s at the end of her rope. Her email is [email protected] God bless you in advance.



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    1. There is hungry, soon to be homeless, single mother who is also battling severe depression and all you can think of is that you are the “first one” today.


  1. Reaching at wits end, a feeling many relate to, that feeling of having something stuck in that space betwen your throat and lungs, Syombua i feel you , may this post be that small crack you need to make it out of that deep dark place. sending you all the love and hugs

  2. I always see the most inane comments on here. How can you read about this woman and the only thing you feel like saying is that you’re the first person to comment.

    1. I think it is the most stupid thing one will on social media. Like what’s the reward in being first to comment?

    2. People are really hurting. A lot has been taken away from the sheer humanity of it all. My own brother had to literally carry all his belongings and come to live with me…you should see my house but I am glad to host him until he gets on his feet again. Yet…after reading through this heartbreaking account of this lady, my heart goes out to her on so many levels. Her baby, her lost love, her lost job………..AND YET….someone’s first instinct is that they were the first to comment. I will just shake my head.

      1. It is so annoying. Especially when the stories are so heartbreaking, and all someone can think of is themselves. Very selfish people are the ones who comment ‘first one’.

        1. Give these people some grace, it’s been a thing on this platform to want to be the first to comment on a post. Most people do it even before reading the article… Don’t be too critical and take the fun out of everything.

          1. Maono, surely are we children? There are appropriate moments for everything, even fun.

          2. Exactly, let people can say they are first and still feel compassion for the victim..

  3. hey guys. this is the time to inua one of us. kama kuna jobo mahali , it could change lives. let’s go guys.

  4. A job engagement to Syombua will be great to get her started on many fronts. Any leads, followers? Might be good if Biko/her indicates areas that she is interested in for casting our nets and reaching out.

  5. It must be the wind juu i can’t stop tearing up when I re-read this.
    These transport managers need to be talked to…

  6. Wow! This is deep. Hang in there girl, been there and it sucks I know. But hang in there, things will get better.

    (I can’t get over the image of a waru pendant Biko….)

    1. I been there too, can relate to what she’s going through but eventually came out of it. Things will look up. Soon.

    1. Good idea. Someone get us her number we send kidogo kidogo. Biko’s readers are generous people. I will start

    2. We can assist her but if this Rono crawls back , i will personally spank his bald head twice braaaary useless. Who does this? Nimekasirika sana.

  7. “…it’s not the kind of person I am. I don’t hurt people – even those that have hurt me.” DEEP.

  8. Well…today is crying Tuesday…..or better, croding Tuesday.

    May God’s voice whisper to someone who has an opportunity to give her a job.

    I have hustled to raise a family….jobless…idle at home all day for weeks that drag grudgingly into months, and most times, looking from those rails on 3rd floor judging whether a jump would quickly ease the struggle or get me paralysed and amplify it.

    @Munyiva, I wish you better days ahead.

  9. It is well Mwendwa. It shall be well. God knows you by name. There is a higher force than you. Bigger than all of us. Look for it/Him. I’m not a certified therapist or anything but if you would want to talk, I’m here. Send me an email to [email protected]


      First I would like ti thank Biko for writing her story., second to you the readers of Bikozulu for such amazing hearts and willingness to help this lady. I know wherever this lady is is smiling as she goes through this encouraging responses from you guys. Biko give us paybill number we send something small to her
      You are such a wonderful family.

      by the way for the lovers of books and studies follow this https://odel.uonbi.ac.ke/ for short term engagement during this pandemic period

  10. This cut me so deep, I feel her for so many reasons. @Munyiva, if you are reading this, do not loose hope in life. I pray that you get something so that you can take care of yourself and your daughter.

  11. As I read this,I saw myself in her..when I was done reading, I was crying too..
    I don’t know what to say.

  12. Men sometimes are “lucky”.Rono got to abandon 2 children and move back home .meanwhile his two children are out here suffering.their mums suffering. I really hope God comes through for her.she is a mother doing her best to step up and that is ALOT.

  13. Is this what we call depression?…then it’s like a wound,raw wound in which life keeps adding salt water on it.

    1. Depression has different levels that at times you miss the signs that are literally in your face. I love being alone.. I hate feeling alone… there’s a difference.

  14. I help young people with their CVs and cover letters, and sometimes connect them to job opportunities, for a small fee,

    We also have several groups on WhatsApp and Telegram where we constantly share job opportunities and help members make applications,

    I will do this for Syombua for free,

    Meanwhile, I will send her a 200/- for now, and more if I get,

    I have written her an email

  15. *sometimes it helps to know that there’s that one person who cares*

    okay wow..she didn’t cry, but I have cried
    Praying for her, God will bless her abundantly! she is going to be a great woman someday, living life comfortably and laughing out loud
    Her daughter will be blessed and she will grow into a fine young woman. She will know happiness someday. Amen

  16. Job 14;1

    Mortals, born of a woman, are of few days and full of trouble

    It’s tough out here

    Hopelessness is rife. The surge of Mental illness is superseding the Corona narrative

    We are fighting for a lost battle

    OOOh God intervene

  17. I pray she gets a breakthrough soon: a job, emotionally, psychologically and financially.
    May God remember her and shine his face upon her.

  18. You read pieces like this, and you remember how caught up you have been with nonsense, how upset you get that the microwave at the office is not working, and it certainly makes you wonder whether you appreciate it enough. Or even deserve it at all. Then you also wonder whether if you reach such as a place you will appreciate a more in-depth comment on you pouring your heart out than ‘First one here’.

    With you in prayer Mwendwa. It shall be well.

    1. c.o you are spot on about us not deserving… meanwhile fist one here will always be here i have come to accept it as part of bikos funs

  19. Thanks so much.I pray that the woman gets a job.
    anyone hiring can reach out to the lady.
    Hii maneno ya am the first to comment inafaa iishe kidogo on serious issues like the one stated above.

  20. I can house her.. And give her a place to keep some chicken…. If she wants…. If someone can offer her capital… I can house her.. She doesn’t. Have to be employed.

  21. I want to say I’m sorry but I think that that might be insensitive given the circumstances. Sigh.
    I hope you get a job mama. Hold in there.

    Dear men, why are you…Ama wacheni tu. Never mind. As you were.

  22. I think I am too emotional because I cried all through reading this. I commend her for being brave to talk about herself.I wish I knew of anyone hiring i would recommend her immediately but I will help how I can.I look forward to reading her success story .

  23. Oh my so touching I hope she gets a job soonest. Well feminism doesn’t mean you must say you’re strong just that you acknowledge what you have an not over beat yourself. From reading your story I feel you’re a strong woman or woman of strength! You have gone through a lot and you still have the energy to tell your story. Hugs! I hope the days ahead become brighter for you and your daughter. May the sun shine

  24. Thanks Biko for bringing this heart melting stories to live. The readers on this post will help this young lady to restore her life back.

  25. I’m glad that Syombua is brave enough to share what she is going through, rather than keeping it all in and falling further into despair. I truly hope someone will locate her for a job, and that everything will fall in place for her, and her child.
    It’s truly sad that Rono is so disconnected, it would be great if he would see things as they really are and step up to support her, and his kids.
    Sometimes what people need most is a hand up, to be able to live a life of dignity, and to know that they have a destiny and that they are treasured by God.

  26. Please, hang in there. Maybe try sitting on the balcony as the sun rises, and hum a little song as you strum the strings of your guitar. Gently. It doesn’t have to make sense.

    Close your eyes and inhale the scents of the world. Focus on the melodies. It’ll be just you and the cold morning air buzzing against your skin, slowly dancing to the tune.

    I’m not trying to be a self-appointed therapist but I know the kind of warmth that music can evoke for music creators and lovers.

    I’d like to believe that it’s not by choice that Biko chose to talk to you. The world works in mysterious ways. I really hope you get a good job and that things take a turn for the better. ❤️

    Thank you for choosing to stay ❣️

    1. I absolutely love your response Wahito. Wholesome!! Whispering a prayer for Syombua. May the next connection open doors of untold opportunities. God’s speed!

  27. What covid has done is just sad. What life is is just sometimes unfair . Thank you Biko, sometimes you just help without knowing you are, God bless this blog, and you of course

  28. Ah, we are back to our good manners of BBI…if only like BBI, we read the story before; I wonder is there is something that can be done for Syombua though….a helping hand, a word of encouragement, an opportunity….and even a prayer – definitely a prayer. Chocolate Man seating at the Head of the Table will make the election (am being Kenyan, suggesting but not presenting myself to be responsible). As for Rono….

  29. This got me . Hang in there Syombua….no amount of darkness can prevent light from getting through. Your day is coming…., I wish you Gods favor and speed . It shall be well

  30. hugs mama,
    You have said my story 13 years ago,i feel your pain ,it sounds odd but so true,that was my story.

  31. I cried on this one, maybe because at some point in my life I kinda felt such kind of pain and loneliness. She will rise again, I know she will and they will be okay.

  32. “She smiles bravely, glad that she didn’t cry. I’m also glad she didn’t cry”. This lady is so strong I won’t lie……I pray that today is the last day she has to worry about putting a meal on the table, her self esteem and gets to find love …true genuine love. Biko God bless.

  33. I’m not in a position to connect you to any job at the moment but I’m praying for you, that may the good Lord who lifts the broken hearted do it for you.

  34. Niko so emoshonoooooo!!

    All these things she’s gone through, and yet, “It’s not the kind of person I am. I don’t hurt people – even those who hurt me.”

    This girl has such a beautiful soul.
    I have never wanted things to work out for someone as badly as I want them to work for her. God will come through, He has to.

    1. ‘Cast your Burdens unto me…’ The Good Book Says.
      Great many thanks Biko for this.
      We are in very trying times, so each one lift one.
      On behalf of the men, We apologize for the Abandonment. No woman deserves to go through such a life.
      Munyiva, we are all with you, it shall be well.
      Heavens will open up and your blessings will flow. In the meantime, keep the faith and be strong. God Bless.

  35. Post-partum Depression is real, accepting that and seeking therapy is the first step towards healing. Wishing Syombua all the best…

  36. Oh my God. so much onion cutting today. I pray for you young lady. May God restore what the locust have stolen. May you one day enjoy motherhood to the fullest. May you find the heart to laugh out loud soon. May you find companionship, May you find EVERYTHING you need. HUGS girl.. HUGS

  37. Quite sad!

    It breaks my heart reading the story about the struggles this lady is going through. Sister, may the stars align in your favor. Don’t give up, just hold on. This is a passing storm, you will overcome.

  38. Oh, I want to be her friend so bad. I want to see her and hug her and be her BFF! Dear girl, lots of hugs. Reach out when you need to talk to another adult that isn’t your sister.



      First I would like to thank Biko for writing her story., second to you the readers of Bikozulu for such amazing hearts and willingness to help this lady. I know wherever this lady is is smiling as she goes through this encouraging responses from you guys. Biko give us paybill number we send something small to her
      You are such a wonderful family.

      by the way for the lovers of books and studies follow this https://odel.uonbi.ac.ke/ for short term engagement during this pandemic period

  39. It’s sad the kind of things people go through silently everyday and I know for a fact not many of us have half the courage to come out and tell it as it is without sugar coating.I really hope her silver lining is coming soon.

  40. Syombua…in every difficulty, there are lessons to be learnt and treasures to be discovered…may the good Lord open your ways. Keep the faith. Biko thanks for talking to her.

  41. When we are told such is life, it never gets into us until we actually experience it, and we all have a share of it- the pain, challenges, adversities, anguish… It is the reality of life. And if we have all had a share of it, then we know how ugly, frustrating, unpleasant and horrible it is. If we know this, then let us share a hand of help if we are in good place. If our prayers are answered. If our hard work has paid off. This is what I always do, and I know the power, force or being that has made this universe possible is constantly smiling down at me. It is anyway his plan. Plan of making such a horrible realm of existence to live in. A plan that only he himself knows what it is about

  42. No matter how hard I try to picture life differently, these stories cut me out. I always feel like a misfit. Should I count myself lucky for having a smooth life? where everything falls is place or I should prepare for the worst that’s yet to come?

  43. Syombua God loves you. You and your daughter. You will get through all of this because what you’re going through doesn’t hinder His love for you. Hugs.

  44. “……. how hopeless we are as parents how hopeless he is as a father but when he comes on the phone I don’t tell him all these things. It’s not the kind of person I am. I don’t hurt people – even those who hurt me.”
    When you can still have forgiveness in your thoughts for a person who did you wrong, God has taken of you in a way you’re not going to understand.

  45. You remind me of ‘Jadudi’. Why? Different circumstances yes, but a desperate and an urgent need. All of us are squeezed at the moment but we can still lend a hand. Count me in if any other person is convinced such a singular initiative begins.

  46. The lady is brave, she might be on the edge today but all is not lost. She will be back on her feet with a different story. I can relate to what she is feeling coz I have been there. A tough situation to be in.
    Guess what, it doesn’t last forever.

  47. My goodnessam.so so sorry for all the suffering and pain you are going through.You know,we think we have problems till we get to hear how bad it is for some other people.
    It will be well..Just look for some little positive spirit tu…kidogo tu….to just even imagine of better days ahead…
    And believe that you surely deserve better…

  48. Oh my God. May she get help..asap. My heart goes out to her. Secondly… Did Biko mention earnings that look like potatoes? To meet someone from central???!! I’m stuck

  49. Such a tear jerker! May you find yourself Syombua… I literally cried for you. Sun will shine again my sister!

  50. Biko, ask her how we can reach her with assistance.

    it so unfair, life sometimes.Everything she has/is going through is literally what I am afraid of.

  51. This story has broken my heart into small pieces. May God come thtough for Syombua. Whoever has a job, please give it to Syombua for the sake of her child and her sanity. Thank you to those who are offering any kind of help. @Rueben my bro. Be blessed.

    A question to Biko. How do you manage to sleep after such interviews?

  52. Oh my,
    Khalil Gibran said,

    Your children are not your children.
    They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
    They come through you but not from you,
    And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
    You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
    For they have their own thoughts.
    You may house their bodies but not their souls,
    For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
    Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
    You may strive to be like them,
    But seek not to make them like you.
    For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
    You are the bows from which your children
    As living arrows are sent forth.
    The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
    And He bends you with His might
    That His arrows may go swift and far.
    Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
    For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
    So He loves also the bow that is stable.
    Just as the counsellor once told you, you have done your best to offer the best. I pray that you cling on to Hope, Faith and the believe in your individual human will. With that, I pray you gain the fortitude to view junior with a different lense and appreciate her the more.

    We shall pray for you to rise beyond the tides of challenges in to better and finer horizons of triumph and victory.

    All the best.

  53. Pleeease stop having premarital sex!!

    You feel the sweetness of thate seconds.

    And then you suffer vizuuuri!

    1. Sound advice as that may be, it’s wholly misplaced over here. Try to be a bit sensitive to the issues at hand, will you?

    2. Is this comment really necessary for this post . You think she hasn’t thought of this. That was really emotionally inconsiderate for you to say at this place and time.

  54. ”They never sit by ponds staring at ducks or pet strangers’ dogs’ heads because they have the emotional maturity of a faulty padlock.”

    The above line made me stop reading and visualize the mental image for a couple of minutes.

  55. The irony of celebrating women, when they face such challenges and no one recognises or gives such an opportunity…

    1. Would have been easier if you emailed her that, since she has put her email up there and requesting for her number instead. Now, all us might whatsapp you and you wouldn’t know how to pick the right Syombua.

  56. Am glad she didn’t cry at the end but I cried on her behalf, as a mom then as a woman.
    I understand your pain, the inability to fend for you & your baby, to not know what the future hold.
    You truly are brave to share your story, to acknowledge you need help.
    Have faith dear Syombua God gives hope to the hopeless, He will surely look your way. May you kick a$$ in your new job, I can feel it coming on your behalf. It is well

  57. Wow. May God grant her peace and also help her accept the situation at hand so that she is able to handle what is coming

  58. Wah, that’s quite a story. I think she’s suffering from depression. She needs help. God bless her, He will get her through this.

  59. Healing begins with being brave enough to share your story. I am glad someone listened. There are better days ahead.

  60. Biko,
    Thank you so much for sharing stories, always touching. This one made me cry, I had taken a break over lunch hour.
    I would love to help her, I don’t know how, so hopefully she responds to my email.
    Keep writing, you are changing lives!

  61. Hang in there Munyiva…you have come a looong way and surely things are about to get better. It must have taken a lot of courage to tell your story and this shall not be in vain. You have been very brave despite everything and therefore we keep hope alive and await the glad tidings. For,
    “Hope is the last thing that dies in man; and though it be exceedingly deceitful, yet it is of this good use to us, that while we are traveling through life it conducts us in an easier and more pleasant way to our journey’s end.”


      First I would like ti thank Biko for writing her story., second to you the readers of Bikozulu for such amazing hearts and willingness to help this lady. I know wherever this lady is is smiling as she goes through this encouraging responses from you guys. Biko give us paybill number we send something small to her
      You are such a wonderful family.

      by the way for the lovers of books and studies follow this https://odel.uonbi.ac.ke/ for short term engagement during this pandemic period

  62. “I love tea but I can take six cups and not taste it anymore.” This is one MAJOR sign of depression. Can we get her help ASAP? How can she be contacted?

  63. This story reminds me of how lucky I am because I still have a job even after the pandemic. I really hope she gets a job, just the thought that she might be homeless soon breaks my heart.


  65. This has really touched a raw nerve!

    I pray that she gets all the help…support…encouragement and prayers that she needs. GOD knows she needs it.

    For me I’d like to also appreicate those who have been there for here during those dark and difficult times. Her Pastor….some random guy named Martin in the article (my gut tells me there’s a story here too…)

    You can count on my support.


  66. I am so sorry for what you are going through dear. I am not in a position to offer a job, but I am ready to listen any day you want to talk to someone. Please reach out to those who have offered any help here. Be it counselling, free housing or just willing to give you an ear so as to figure things out. I know the sun will shine again for you. It will.
    Biko, btw, kisiis dont wear yellow shirts. Hey wear Suit Jackets to all occasions and in all weather

  67. May God meet her at this point of need. May His Face shine upon her.
    Let’s mentor our Sons to do better irrespective.

  68. Okay, when all is said and done; Women and ladies, here should be your take away, How not to chase a man, coz you have him for a few seconds, then he’s gone. Kaput, just like that and he moves on like nothing happened. And you are left Single (AGAIN!!) depressed and with unimaginable problems (And by this, I DON’T mean the baby). Hugs and Sunshine to you Syombua. Greatest lessons in life are derived from Pain!

  69. Biko is a blogger…bloggers do not care after they have told the story… Life is this fucking shit! Biko does not care… His fans neither… So please! It is what it is !

  70. Am a strong believer that if God opened His way when you left Makueni for that interview, He will shine His light upon you.. Now Syombua, your, you’ve got people praying for you…just keep your brave heart. When everything falls in place (not if) please share your Lord blessings to us.

    Remember Christ defeated that ancient and ugly cross that He died on, so like a phoenix you will rise coz you’re already on your rock bottom. Amen Biko fans

  71. When people open up about their private pain and insecurities, that really gets me… Do you know how hurt someone has to be to tell you about their inner secrets and shame? This lady is unbelievably brave

  72. “I kept yelling at the baby. There was never enough food and…” and then “…and because I don’t know how to yell at anyone, I’d tell him that I was doing badly and…” Kwani what is yelling?

  73. Biko, Ban these people who always rush here to comment that they are the first ones to do so especially on such emotional stories.

  74. @Munyiva hugs girl,God loves you,you are a strong woman,this will come to pass,God will create a way, he will surely get you out of this pit,you will sing again.

  75. Hang in there, don’t give up on life. Your daughter needs you, we all need you.
    God watch over you.
    We pray for a financial, career and love breakthrough, AMEN

  76. Stop letting people hold you to your past.
    I can tell you this from experience, you would rather be lonely that accommodate someone who will take up space in your soul and leave you feeling empty and miserable. You’re not alone, you have a beautiful child who is all yours. Create a life that makes you and your child feel wholesome. Physical attachment is not a good enough reason to want companionship. Sex is a waste of time and it will not fill the void. Everything will eventually fall back to place. Love you and only you.

  77. Hurting people hurt others. I bet this guy has deep wounds that he masks by being emotionless and insensitive.
    If only men knew how to seek help if they need to……. If only women knew how to see help….. If only psychological and psychiatric care was affordable to Wanjiku

    If only love was real to all……

    Someone said that a day’s trouble are enough for that particular day. Take one day at a time.
    I’ve previously been there, not out of the woods just yet, but can say today’s better than it previously was.
    You will raise again. Someday soon.
    You will.

  78. I never thought I’d shed a tear off of reading an article online…. BIKO you’re Godsent, just because of you this woman’s life will never be the same, like i tell my boss, God blesses us through him, God is blessing munyiva through you
    Before i forget,
    MIKE KINOTI Nigga WTF?? That’s the best thing you could say?? SMH!!
    Being jobless is the most humbling thing that can happen to you. 3 years ago i thought i was at the lowest point of my life, wondering if I’d ever amount to anything. I had gone to the point of being a ‘beba’ in gikomba . The work was tideous af and the pay was so little. We’d hire mikokoteni at 50 and carry up to 15 bales each. One time i almost passed out since we weren’t eating well and that really got to me and i broke down to tears. Anyway God came through and am now in a better place.
    Syombua’s story made me want to listen to August alsina’s ‘Right there’.
    My heart goes out to you munyiva.

  79. I have just said a prayer for you Munyiva /Syombua (my name!) and God is opening a door for you, it will be so big, so magnificent, that you will begin to feel your soul, you will feel your breath, you will feel your face and tears of gratitude will run down your face. It is well in Jesus Mighty Name.. In a month’s time we will be reading your story of joy and laughter because your time has come. God bless you Biko for heeding her call.
    With love, the real Syombua.

  80. I am so sorry to read what this lady is going through. I don’t have a job but I will reach out to encourage her. I am glad my story little Judases encouraged her. The God who did it for me can do it for her too.

  81. Poor soul. God will intercede. Just like he pulled a miracle through your intervention. It’s true Bko. Your writing is therapeutic. I have heard many a people with similar views. It’s a good thing. Keep writing

    Love and respect from Dar es salaam. We’ve not been eliminated by Covid-19 yet

  82. There are many Rono’s out here breeding bitter children in future. An unexplainable bitterness that a child bears when he/she can’t live with both parents (when both are alive). To Syombua…all the best mami Hang in there. Now that the chocolate man has written about you, opportunities will overflow.

  83. Wow!God bless you Biko for listening to that lady and even helping her look for a job.Such an emotional read!

  84. Ohhh Syombua. This has made me cry so much today morning. I know how it feels to feel helpless, but not like this. My prayers and thoughts are with you and your little angel. She is your blessing, still…. Godwilling, you will affirm this ONE day. And you know you mean the whole world to ONE person, your little babes <3

  85. have been there, broken , seemingly lost but thankfully i got a support system of people around me.it is well girl, God will provide something

  86. Oh my! This is deep. Hugs Mwendwa. God will open a door soon. I look forward to reading your success story soon.

  87. This is not just a great piece of writing, or a life story, but a call to humanity. Good people are suffering while we undeserving humans don’t realize how fortunate God has made us. “She doesn’t hurt people, even those who hurt her”. Deep

  88. I really feel for her. When you have a child or children, hopelessness hits hardest. I know from experience. That feeling of having failed your child ; i couldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

    Hopefully, she gets the help she deserves. Thanks for sharing her story.

  89. Honestly, reading this is heartbreaking but at the same time full of hope that you will get that new beginning. Times are tough but the fact you do not despair, brighter days ahead. I may not have a job to offer or money at the moment because I’m currently unemployed,but sending all the love you need to heal and to embrace your new life I’m sure there are so many kind people that will be here for you. Be blessed you and your daughter.

  90. Am still left with a huge lump on my throat after reading this poignant story. This one right here should be the number one reason why Biko graces our Tuesdays and of course the laughs too coming in second. Will search around and see if I can get her a good job.

  91. Syombua I wish you blessings from the only one who has your back. Find solace from the words of the almighty. Here is some insight that I hope you work towards, since It may guarantee mental peace, you can’t be disappointed by someone multiple times, and expect yourself to have the same energy to still crave them. Stop calling him. Delete his contact and strive towards meeting new people and enhance the quality of potentially new network.

  92. I had balancing tears just reading this. Do men understand what we really go through sometimes? Dear Syombua, God will never forsake you, I believe better days are yet to come. You have a true blessing of being a mother, it is never easy but Mungu yupo!

  93. This is soo heartbreaking…She can explore onine freelancing on Upwork and other platforms if she has a computer and internet.

  94. This lady’s story has hurt me more than I have been hurt lately! How can anyone help her from far away Uganda?

  95. I would love to talk to her,say something that will keep her connected,anything really,because I know what isolation,deep hurt,desperation and despair feels like and it’s ugly.please let her know that she is not alone and never will be.

  96. Someday you’ll look back at this moment in your life and be surprised by how much you can get through. All will be well.

  97. Here’s to women who struggle and endure everything life serves
    You are strong, beautiful and valued❤️

  98. The same men damaging women now want to save them and are trying to make peace with their guilt. May men who treat women badly keep going down on their knees incase they get their own daughters in this life. Karma has always had a way of showing up.

  99. I believe there is someone out there who will make you smile amd laugh again ,things will work out believe

  100. I’m tearing up. Literally. This breaks my heart and I genuinely want to help this woman. I don’t have a job to offer but I can send her something to get her through the week, even day. I’m sure I’m not alone. So yes, Biko, I request for a till number


    First I would like ti thank Biko for writing her story., second to you the readers of Bikozulu for such amazing hearts and willingness to help this lady. I know wherever this lady is is smiling as she goes through this encouraging responses from you guys. Biko give us paybill number we send something small to her
    You are such a wonderful family.

    by the way for the lovers of books and studies follow this https://odel.uonbi.ac.ke/ for short term engagement during this pandemic period

  102. You think you’re going through a rough time but there’s always someone out there who has it worse than you do
    May she get that lifeline she needs

  103. Sending lots of hugs and love to the Lady and to all the others in similar situations and haven’t had a chance to talk about it. May good fortunes locate you and peace be with you and I hope soon you come back with a victorious happy story.

  104. People please stop checking on your ex, there’s no reason to keep that fire on. Even if they weren’t fine it has nothing to do with you. Ms syombua take care of yourself and your child, that is what should consume your life.

  105. this has filled my eyes with tears. being a mother and knowing very well how one can get so overwhelmed with childcare. i deeply hear you. may you heal by telling your story. may you find meaning in your life sooner than later.

  106. Stop knocking on the same doors that never open. Stop breaking your own heart repeatedly. Stop communications with people who drain your well.

  107. People are going through hell, it is so bad..so so bad. And politicians are running around town during curfew in shiny brand new Mercedeses carrying money in gift bags I swear.

  108. OH my goodness. this broke my heart to read.
    I hope she finds work and a place to live, but more importantly joy and hope for better days.

    Try and keep your chin up hun, you have breath in your lungs and a little girl who adores you. I’m certain not long from now you will rediscover the beautiful things about yourself you once loved as you form another life.

  109. So soulful of a masterpiece. I think this is the first time i’m reading from your blog…, and wow! I think i’m gonna read the rest of everything in here. Her story reminds me of ‘Little fires everywhere’, not because i’m comparing this to it, but because her story unravels something new in me. How reality hits. Thanks for this piece.

  110. Aauuuuchhhhhhh!!!
    Lifeee…Never give up just be strong,believe in you and always remeber #better days are coming…

  111. Aauuuuchhhhhhh!!!
    Lifeee…Never give up just be strong,believe in you and always remember #better days are coming…

  112. I have always believed that there is a reason for everything, but………. today my question is what is the reason for all this ,its a lot for just one person.Keep breathing Syombua I still believe there is a God who has plans for you despite all odds.Just keep breathing.

  113. Gosh….i just wish i could help.Lemme try all i can.Syombua deserves another shot at life. She really does.

    Please hang in there. Something will definitely come through for you.

  114. Such a sad story, you have really gone through a lot! Girl you are in my prayers….don’t give up because the Bible tells us in Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

  115. Being a parent is not easy, I have a daughter , a nanny, a helpful hubby and in-laws who pick her up every weekend and I still get tired so can only imagine how she’s feeling. It’s definitely not easy. Kids can run you down. If she could give us her number , Biko fans can text her good morning and other stuff every morning for her to have adult conversations.

  116. Biko I dont earn much but you should have given us her mpesa number . Jioni when we feel extra we share with the kid.

  117. As parents we peg our self respect (self worth and self love) on our ability to provide for our children. Being unable to do so sends one in a spiral controlled by feelings of unworthiness and we lose our “joie de virve”.

    As much as giving one “fish” helps, it still doesn’t satisfy our need to be self sufficient. At the end of the day every parent just wants to boast how they provided for their children. Sounds silly!

  118. Aaaw, this is a heart rending story. Sorry for your experience. May God come through for you, give you your confidence back and open a door for a job. May He give you a true friend. If you need one, here I am. Please join a choir to hone your skills.

  119. Baby girl! You need Jesus, no one else can get you out of this pit than Christ himself. I pray you find him I pray for you from the bottom of my heart!

  120. I almost thought someone was telling my story, only that my Rono is not bald. Dear girl., We’re hanging on there until our God comes in His own ways. Hugs mama, may God hear you.

  121. I know how it feels like to be a lonely single mother.
    I know how it feels like to walk around like a zombie feeling as if all your joy has been sucked out of you.
    I may not relate to all that you have been through, but I would like to say you are a very strong woman.
    The fact that you are here sharing your story is a testament to just how strong you are.
    You will be okay and you are a gem.

  122. Giiirrrrllll…. I feel for you and with you…idk what else to say but It Is Well.. It shall be well. Jesus loves you. He really does and He never forsakes us or forgets us. He is going through everything that you are going through with you. He is Your Father and no father is happy when their child hurts, they do everything in their power to take away that pain and make them feel better and I believe that rn God is doing the same. He really is. But sincerely, I’m so sorry you’ve gone through all that. May God restore you.

    1. Okay maybe not all fathers but those who know what it actually means to be a father in their children’s life and how that impacts the children in the long run

  123. The groom kissed the bride, cake was cut, people from shags danced in their ill-fitting suits, then the fat lady sang.