My name is Michael Onyango, and for many years, fear quietly followed me everywhere I went. I lived in Bungoma town, where I ran a small but respected wholesale shop supplying goods to local retailers. On the surface, my life looked stable. I had friends, relatives, and people who constantly told me they cared about me. But deep inside, something never felt right. There were moments when people seemed to know too much about my life—things I had never shared publicly. I ignored that feeling, telling myself I was just being paranoid.
The people closest to me were those I trusted the most. We grew up together, prayed together, and supported each other during hard times. I shared my plans, my financial struggles, and even personal family matters with them. I believed openness was a sign of love and unity. I never imagined that the same information would be passed around quietly, piece by piece, to people who wished me harm. Unknown to me, my life had become a topic of discussion in rooms I had never entered.…CONTINUE READING
