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As told to Torch Media Africa
In 2019, I lost my job under unclear circumstances—an experience I still struggle to fully explain. Many who know the environment I worked in may understand why. At the time, I was a young, ambitious woman determined to prove doubters wrong, including my own mother.
While many people grow up with supportive parents, my experience was different. My mother was often critical, and her actions frequently left me emotionally shaken. This is not shared for sympathy, but simply as part of my reality.
I was not well connected and had no influential networks to rely on. However, through determination, discipline, and a desire not to waste my father’s sacrifices, I managed to build opportunities for myself.
When I received news of my dismissal, I called a close confidant in tears and told her, “Maama, I have failed you.” She reassured me that it was not the end of the world and encouraged me to redirect my focus.
At the time, I was in a stable relationship. I had already sensed that things at work might not end well and had shared my concerns with my partner. When I informed him that my fears had come true, he simply asked me to come home.
That day, overwhelmed and uncertain, I walked barefoot from Mengo to town, deep in thought. Having been raised to be independent from a young age, I struggled with the reality of suddenly having no job or clear path forward.
Then the COVID-19 lockdown came—and I was pregnant. Adjusting to dependence was difficult, but I remain grateful that my partner supported me without hesitation. He stepped up as a provider during a time I needed it most. After giving birth, I resumed the search for employment. It was exhausting and often discouraging, but I held on to hope despite the many unseen struggles I faced.
During this vulnerable period, I began hearing troubling rumors—that I had deliberately left my job to become a traditional healer. At first, I dismissed them, until someone confidently insisted the information was true, claiming it came from my own mother. I kept this painful revelation to myself, sharing it only with my partner and my confidant—who has since passed away.
Already emotionally strained, I sank deeper into depression, compounded by the challenges of postpartum recovery. In an effort to survive, I set aside pride and began crafting items from bottle tops. I was later introduced to collecting recyclable waste as a source of income.
Each day, I would wake up at 5 a.m., carry my baby on my back, and move through neighborhoods collecting bottles, polythene bags, and cartons. A contact helped me find a market for these materials, turning what many considered garbage into a means of survival.
This is only part of my journey.
I share this story to remind others that life is not always what it appears on social media. Behind the images and posts are real struggles, resilience, and quiet battles that often go unseen.
To be continued…
You Can Reach Out to Naka through her Facebook
NAKA OMUMBEJJA OMUZIMBI