Chin up, tough situations   don’t last forever

What are you going through right now? Could you be mourning a close relative? A parent or sibling perhaps? Did you just find out that you are pregnant and are wondering what to do? Or maybe you are battling depression triggered by a stressful situation. Whatever you might be going through, these four will tell you that there is light at the end of the tunnel, so square your shoulders and face the future with optimism.

Charles Mbithi, 26, was 17 when he took his first bottle of beer, an act that would lead to addiction so bad, he would sell even his clothes to support his habit.

Most people take alcohol to pass time, for leisure. For some however, it progresses from a leisure activity to addiction. Charles was on this dangerous path, fortunately, he was able to retrace his steps back to sobriety.

“Growing up, I wasn’t interested in alcohol, I wasn’t even curious about - I was an altar boy determined to lead a blameless life. When I joined high school however, I gave in to peer pressure and started to take it. It started with a sip, but with time, the alcohol became the reason I longed to see the next day. I was 17 when I had my first bottle of beer.

Even though I was a student, I could easily access alcohol, mainly because I had the money, the pocket money I got from my parents. I spent the better part of it on alcohol, and even when broke, my friends would willingly buy me. While in high school, I would not say that I was a drunkard since opportunities to drink were few. This meant that I was able to hide it from my teachers and my parents. This changed when I joined college though. I made new friends, and since I was out of my parents’ watch, I became a heavy drinker. I would drink the whole night and stagger back to my rented room in the morning. It became so bad, that when I ran out of money while in drinking dens, I would sell anything on me that was sellable, such as my phone or jacket, just to get money to buy another glass of alcohol. Many times, I also resorted to selling my household items to finance my habit. My friends knew cheap drinking spots, and this worsened the habit. I started drinking on a daily basis without a care if I had a class the next day - I lost count of the number of times that I missed classes. I also cannot count the number of times that I was locked up in police cells because of unruly behaviour after drinking. I also no longer cared whether my parents would find out about my drinking habit because I was now addicted to it.

My mother is the first person who made me realise that I had a drinking problem. She would often tell me that I was headed to the grave. Her words would really hit me while sober, but the moment a friend invited me out for a drink, I would laugh at the thought of her thinking that alcohol would kill me.

My drinking was so bad, my lips became inflamed, and when I started working, it was one of the first things that my clients would notice and comment on. After many such observations, I told myself that I should quit drinking. After battling my addiction for seven years, in 2015, I decided to stop drinking. It has been a difficult journey to soberness. Several times I slipped and gave in to the urge to drink. What really helped me ditch this habit was getting a job that kept me busy. It was also against the rules to drink on the job, and since I was in need of a job, I had to try and beat the habit. I suffered withdrawal symptoms such as persistent headaches and tremors, but these gradually tapered off with time. It also helped that I had a supportive colleague who walked with me through the recovery process. If you serve me a glass of alcohol today, I will decline it and request for water.

There are many young people struggling with alcohol abuse today, if you are one of them, you need to acknowledge that you are an alcoholic and that you desire to change. The second step you need to take is to gradually cut off links with your drinking buddies and create new friendships. Thirdly, get busy. If you do not have a job, volunteer to do something that you like or go back to school. Beating addiction is not easy, but it is doable if you really want to do it.

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Eunice Miaraho is 27. She talks about what she went through after realising she was pregnant soon after completing high school.

When Eunice walked into a chemist one afternoon seven years ago, the last thing she expected the pharmacist to tell her was that she was pregnant.

“I had missed my periods for one month, but it did not occur to me that I could be pregnant. I had just completed high school and was waiting to join university the following year. I was 20 then. Young and with a great future ahead. I had broken up with my then boyfriend two months before, so I just could not have been pregnant, so I told myself.

When I missed my period for the second month, it dawned on me that I could actually be pregnant, but still hoped against hope that it was a hormonal problem. When I walked into that chemist, it was not to ascertain that I was pregnant, but to confirm that indeed it was a hormonal problem.

When the results were handed to me, the first word that jumped at me was “positive”. For many minutes, I sat there silently. My life flashed before my eyes and I knew I had no future. I did not debate whether I wanted to keep the baby or not, my first thought was that I needed to get hold of my ex-boyfriend and relay the news. He denied responsibility, and there and then, it dawned on me that I was indeed pregnant and alone.

I knew the news would break my parents’ hearts, and so I told my siblings, who later shared the news with my parents. When I looked into my mother’s eyes, I read disappointment, while my dad registered a look that is difficult to define. My mother was the first to come around and accept the situation, but dad maintained his distance and would only talk to me when sending me money for my prenatal clinics.

I delivered my baby in July 2010. I was set to join university in September that year, but there is no way I could leave my two-months-old baby at home. There are days I would look at my daughter and feel resentful - I felt as if she was an inconvenience. I was so distressed, I developed stomach ulcers so bad, I had to have weekly injections to ease the pain. One day, a nurse that would often attend to me called me aside and warned me that I would not get any more injections. She told me that I needed to stop worrying about things I could not change.

Her words were the driving force I needed, and I decided to try and accept the fact that I was a young single parent. I started to socialise with young mothers like me at school, (I had joined university by then) and gradually stopped blaming others for my mistakes.

I graduated with a degree in environmental science from Kenyatta University in 2015, an achievement I credit to my parents and siblings, who would take care of my daughter, who they love to bits, when I went to school.

My message to young people is that they should take precaution if abstaining is hard for them. To a pregnant teenager that might be reading this, accept the situation and have your baby. That baby you are carrying is a blessing, ask me.

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Zippy Kimani is a transformational coach, corporate trainer and motivational speaker. She founded her company, Reinvent You, while battling depression after she lost her job.

Zippy, 26, is a jovial and upbeat young woman. A year ago however, she was in a dark place, and would spend days locked up in her house, not picking calls, not speaking to anyone. She was depressed.

“My job meant everything to me. This might sound like an exaggeration, but it isn’t. I was a portfolio manager; l invested all my time and energy into my job, such that I did not have time for anything else. It was my life. When I was fired therefore, I was devastated. I had worked here for a year and six months and had been promoted thrice – this must mean that I had been good at what I did.

I had not saved any money, having spent a chunk of my salary during that period to revamp my wardrobe. When I was handed my termination letter on that cloudy mid-morning in January 2016, I had no penny to my name, so you can imagine the impact that dismissal letter had on me. But that was not what hurt me most. I had thought that I was indispensable to the company especially because my immediate supervisor often applauded my work. For the next three months, I just wanted to be alone. I shut myself off from the world and spent most days locked up at home in pajamas watching boring movies as my mind kept replaying that moment I was dismissed. When I was not glued to TV, I was in bed nursing persistent headaches. Worried, my mother suggested that I apply for jobs, but I was not interested. I was often in a bad mood, and even lost my appetite, leading to drastic weight loss. I knew that these were signs of depression, but I was too sad to care.

What eventually pushed me into action is acknowledging that I was broke, and that if I did nothing about it, I would be out in the cold.

I enjoyed exercising, so I thought to myself, why not train others for a fee? I called a few relatives and friends and explained my plan. Out of sympathy, they agreed to become my clients. I did the trainings either from my house or their houses, since I couldn’t afford to rent a formal space. When I started out, I was strictly doing it to earn a living, it is only much later that I realised the sessions would leave me feeling rejuvenated and revitalised. The depression was falling off, and I was ready to give life another shot. I also realised that I did not want to be employed again; I wanted to be my own boss.

In May last year, with earnings from the fitness training services, I decided to enroll for a corporate training and life coaching course. After completing the short-term course, I registered Reinvent You, a company that trains corporates on transformational leadership, emotional intelligence and how to incorporate fitness into a company’s culture.

My experience has taught me that the world owes me nothing. It was a hard lesson for me to accept, but that is the truth. Another important factor that I learnt is that what you feed your mind and soul has the power of taking control over you. For the three months I nursed depression, I kept telling myself that I was a failure, it is only when I put a stop to this negative voice that I was able to shake off that dark cloud, collect the broken pieces and build myself up again.”

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Tabitha Mwangi is 26, she lost her father in 2015, her mother this year.

Often, death comes without a knock. One day, someone is there, the next, he or she is gone. Even on the rare instances that it does knock, we are not ready to say goodbye, and when you lose a loved one, you tend to lose a grip on life too.

Tabitha has not only had to bear the pain of losing one, but both of her parents.

“Before I let you into the details of the death of my parents, allow me to tell you a little bit about my relationship with them. My mother was the disciplinarian, my dad the soother. My mother pushed me and my siblings to outdo ourselves in a quest to be successful in future, while dad instilled in us kindness, honesty and generosity. My parents were my rock.

Dad, then 60, passed away in June 2015 due to diabetes, and come September 2015, I was boarding a plane to India with my mother, who had earlier been diagnosed with breast cancer. I have heard stories of patients who travel abroad for treatment, only to return home in a coffin - I could not imagine losing the parent I had left while still grieving for the one that had died. My mother was a strong woman, but in the eight months I spent with her in India as she sought treatment, I realised just how strong she really was. I don’t remember a day when she gave up on life. There are days when she woke up feeling okay, but there are those she woke up in pain. The amazing thing is that even on those days, she still wanted to work on her dissertation paper, (she was studying clinical psychology at Presbyterian University of East Africa) and talked of the future with so much longing. She also kept calling home to find out how my younger siblings were doing.

When we returned to Kenya in June 2016, she continued to receive treatment, but passed away on January 15 this year. She was only 54. I was in so much pain. When you lose a loved one, you do not overcome the grief, rather, you learn how to live with it. I still hear people who cough like my dad, and it always takes me back to the day he died. Other times, I see a woman with a nice hairstyle and I envisage how beautiful my mum would look in it.”

In her book, Lucky, Alice Sebold says, “You save yourself or you remain unsaved”. Being the first born, I knew that I had to save myself from the pain and cheer up for the sake of my siblings. That said, living positively with grief is far from easy, and would have been tougher were it not for our supportive network of relatives and friends.

Another reason why we are able to come to grips with our grief is due to how well our parents nurtured us. I believe that all I am today is thanks to the lessons they imparted. I also know that they would not have wanted us to live our lives wallowing in grief. They are at a peaceful and happy place and that is the same thing they would have wished for us.