ðŸ˜ðŸ˜My house is about to be locked today just because I was not able to raise money for my rent. I post it on fb seeking help, I get 2 likes n zero comment. So i send 100 messages to my contact list requesting for a loan of 15, 000/. Sadly only 10ppl reply. 6 out of the 10 are claiming they can’t help. The 4 who can help tell me ningoje waende bank kesho. Kesho mmoja ako mteja, the other 3 never pick my calls. So jioni imefika, my hse door is locked. I have no where to sleep. I walk in the dark seeking options bt sadly I meet goons. Fast foward the next day am found dead.
1500 ppl post on my wall how they knew me. How great i was. A committe is formed by my loyal friend.Friends contribute 200,000/- to feed guests at my funeral.
My staff team up and bring another 200k for coffin, tents and chairs.
I am burried in a coffin worth 15k but since they purchased it in a rush they meet a cartel who middle mans it and sells it at 45, 000/=.
Relatives meet again. It’s a rare occasion for them to meet, so for my send off they collect an extra 350, 000/=.
Everyone wants to volunteer in order to appear they r helping. Youth print t-shirts with my image, each T-Shirt costs 1000/=. All the 400 youth pay, so the T-shirt man gets 20,000/- profit from my death.
Everyone wants to speak in my funeral. There is drama all over from people who never knew how I survived. Rumours fly how I was murdered by my friends. Peolple blame my successful relative for having sacrifised me. Speeches are made on how talented I was. The few friends who supported me don’t get a chance to speak in my funeral though they know the Truth. In fact they are prime suspects for my death.
If you can’t stretch that helping hand to someone when they are alive please don’t raise all this money when they are gone.
#Dont show people Love when they are gone, show them when they need it and alive…