I was busy chatting and laughing with my crazy friends in a train heading home, people used to know us, as the "noisemakers" but a train without no music calls for chats and loud laughs from typical youths in their twenties, while older passengers, a train with no music is just a heaven as they get to relax and just enjoy the sound of the engines. Then I get this call from my grandmother telling me that I head on home straight to my aunties's place because the door was locked by the house agent. This news really got me shocked and confused.

"Locked out the third time, where are we supposed to get that kind of money?" Thoughts just crossed my mind. I felt heart broken and lost, but I didn't show, I continued chatting and laughing but at the back of my mind, my world was on fire.

It has been 7 months now since my family and I got evicted. Our extended family were nice enough to open their doors for us that time we didn't have a place to go to. Until now we are still grateful because it's still there we are seeking shelter.

I am now a former student earning a stipend while trying to get a job that will build my family a nice place to call home, but the problem with the world today, getting a job is not a walk in the park, papers do not matter these days, but connections do, this is the key factor to getting a decent job. But still I am optimistic that one day I will get that job I deserve with or without anyone's connections.

Now back to family, I know many people are thankful that we found an extended family who opened their doors for us and I know many people wish to be in this position, but don't despair sometimes it maybe worth it if they don't open those doors.

Living with family is supposed to be encouraging, happy and warm somehow, but in my case it's very different from all the imagination. At first they welcomed us with open arms, treated us with lots of love, wow we felt hopeful. One week things were calm, were getting used to the warm mood, "maybe this time round they have changed and have learnt to accept us, maybe this time they won't look at us, as a burden to them" too many maybes kept crossing my mind, because this was our third time at our aunt's place and the way she, herkids and the rest of the family members in the compoundtreatedus before this time round we couldn't expect anything different, so at the back of my mind I was cautious.

Not long after hell broke loose, my aunt wakes up in the morning all moody, throws things around, goes to the shop buys milk and bread throws them on the table the leaves, so puzzled my mother picked up the milk and bread prepares breakfast, we took the breakfast with lost of questions but then again the warm gestures were just for the show.

Now she had a meeting with her kids and told them never to eat any meal prepared by "the poor" if they felt hungry they should consult their aunts. When mother cooked and called them they pretended not to be hungry but in another room we could hear spoons and moving as they tried to eat quietly, damn this metal spoons and luminarc plates always shouting the secrets one is trying to hide.

Soon after mother stopped calling them around. On dull days we used to sleep hungry as my aunt and her two daughters went out to eat come back full and ready for bed for us poor people she used and still despises us a lot even the daughters have learnt to belittle even my own mother and that hurts me to point of hating them. Sure you have provided a place to sleep for someone but don't make them feel like dogs they have to kiss your feet and beg for meals. On bright days I come with something small for my family at least they go to bed something for tomorrow it will be a whole new struggle.

Now my aunt give my mother old torn clothes while she locks up her fancy gowns away. That takes me back to when my father was alive, when we used to have it all. Mother used to share all her fancy wears with my aunt didn't feel a pinch, not only clothes but everything they were best of friends but now in the eyes of my aunt my mother is nothing, not of her standards anymore, everyday it hurts my mother just seeing how someone she used to sacrifice alot for is the one treating her like garbage, back them my mother wouldn't allow my aunt to sleep hungry she would always split her money in half and share with my aunt. Every trip we took those days money way flowing like milk and honey we always involved my aunt and her daughters, now the trip is never for the poor,tables do turn.

Sometimes I wonder who will help us, so that we disappear from their lives, they have grown tired of us that they mistreat us just to frustrate us. Family can be your refuge and at the same time your biggest pain. Don't mistreat me because I have the cash anymore, nobody signs up for any situation, nobody wants the bread winner to die and nobody ones to be a burden to anyone. This situation happens to so many families but they are unable to speak because they feel they owe it to them that are housing them, yes you owe them but that doesn't give them a right to despise and mistreat you or me.

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