Switch TV presenter Nana Owiti recalls her suffering days growing up.

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Nana Owiti

Nini Nana Owiti who is King Kaka’s wife recalls on her suffering days growing up.

She took to Instagram and took us down the memory lane. She wrote:

 

 

“LONG POST ALERT!!!!
Walking down memory lane.
When I look at this picture, I am overwhelmed with emotion. It reminds me of a time in my life when I was a miserable little human, a disheveled young girl with little hopes of making it in life.. But weirdly most of the times so happy inside. Like other girls my age in the area, I had short hair because it was easy to maintain. I had one school uniform, two blouses and one sweater. I remember my auntie Nduku washing our uniform mid-week because it was the only set we had and she was still is a clean freak. Thankfully it dried quickly because of the ever scorching sun. My mom(who I had no idea was my mom until later-story for another day)deliberately bought me an oversize uniform to take me through the remaining years of primary school. My green sweater, had patches on the elbows, of different colours and patterns. It looked like a tie and dye gone wrong. My skin (Esp my legs)were cracked and had visible scales. I had no shoes. I remember now, how desperately I wanted shoes, because of how the terrain had badly ravaged the soles of my feet. Thankfully I had no cracked heels like most of those women in the village. Cracks so deep, so intense that they looked like tributaries of a dried river. We often joked,’Kiangai! Ena mialíka yiania Ing’olo’ meaning the cracks were deep enough for the 5 shilling coin that had 7 sides. Anyway,the journey from school was so grueling, because the ground was intensely hot due to the heat from blazing sun. It made me an athlete by default, running back home every evening to escape the effects of the sun. I would run so fast under the few surviving trees,rest my feet abit because Jesus! The Soil was on FIRE 🔥 I would watch the soil as steam blew off from it(Mirage).My face tells the story of a difficult upbringing. My eyes speak the language of sadness, of a girl who is holding on to life by a thread. My eyes are puffy, significant of the little hours of sleep I would get every day either because it was too cold, too hot, or because I had slept,” She wrote.

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