Years ago, he made a sacrifice many would consider the ultimate act of love—he sold a piece of his ancestral land to educate his son.
Today, that son serves in the Kenya Defence Forces (KDF), but according to the father, he has completely cut off communication.
The father recalls the day he signed the land transfer documents. That land was more than property; it was heritage, security, and a symbol of family legacy.
The father recalls the day he signed the land transfer documents. That land was more than property; it was heritage, security, and a symbol of family legacy.
But when his son received admission to university, he did not hesitate. He believed education would lift the entire family.
With limited options and no stable income, selling the land felt like the only way to secure his son’s future.
“I wanted him to succeed where I could not,” the father says through tears. “I believed when he finished school and got a good job, we would celebrate together.”
The son completed his studies and later secured employment with the Kenya Defence Forces, a respected and stable institution in the country. For the family, it was a proud moment.
“I wanted him to succeed where I could not,” the father says through tears. “I believed when he finished school and got a good job, we would celebrate together.”
The son completed his studies and later secured employment with the Kenya Defence Forces, a respected and stable institution in the country. For the family, it was a proud moment.
Neighbors congratulated the father for raising a disciplined and successful young man. It seemed the sacrifice had paid off.
But things began to change.
Calls became less frequent. Visits stopped. Financial support the father assumed would come never arrived. Eventually, communication reportedly ceased altogether.
But things began to change.
Calls became less frequent. Visits stopped. Financial support the father assumed would come never arrived. Eventually, communication reportedly ceased altogether.
The father claims his son no longer answers his calls and has distanced himself from the family completely.
“I am not asking for riches,” the father laments. “I only want respect and to feel remembered. I gave up my only land for him.”
The emotional pain runs deeper than the financial loss. In many Kenyan communities, land is generational wealth—rarely sold unless absolutely necessary.
“I am not asking for riches,” the father laments. “I only want respect and to feel remembered. I gave up my only land for him.”
The emotional pain runs deeper than the financial loss. In many Kenyan communities, land is generational wealth—rarely sold unless absolutely necessary.
The father says he now struggles economically and feels abandoned by the very child he sacrificed everything for. Continue reading..........................
Hello, my name is Yoruba. I'm a 25 year old self-employed blogger from the Africa.
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