A woman, a boss, a hard worker but most of all a slave to the high life. Angela (not her real name), had it all. The looks, the bod and smile that could electrify people from Eastlands to the far border towns of Northern Kenya. She was brought up in a strong Christian setting. Her parents instilled the core family values in all their children.
As she became older, rebellion started kicking in as Angela slowly but steadily unsubscribed from those values. Here was a vibrant girl thrust into the usually unforgiving world with more money at her disposal than she could spend. She was the epitome of truly living the life. A 22-year old woman working at the biggest telecommunications company in Eastern Africa. What more could you ask for?
Her steady rise in society did attract the wrong kind of ‘classy’ company. They were like little mites slowly chewing off her feet. She was introduced to the Parley, an exclusive member only club where you could have all your fantasies come true. Drugs, alcohol and random sexual escapades (you name it) were the norm.
It became like a permanent scar that one could not simply shake off. Every Friday night, the relief of closing out the week opened the door to Angela’s very dark side. I stand beside Angela’s burial site flabbergasted at how a young woman had wasted away. The story behind her demise is too painful to bear. A story best told when my heart is at rest. I am a living ambassador of the millennial saying ‘you only live once’ given my background but I do advocate for moderation.
If you are more confused now than you were when you started reading this, then you my friend are what we call a good student. I introduced Tiger’s Chronicles and rants as a section that I could creatively touch on any subject. I know you have probably heard of this before but drink responsibly, take care of your loved ones and research on Angola bats 🙂 Peace!
Hybridintrovert 