My name is Esther, and I live in Eldoret, near Kapsoya estate. My husband, Daniel, was once a hardworking man, respected in his community, and loved by family and friends.
But over the past five years, alcohol had slowly taken control of him. He drank every evening, often disappearing for hours or days, and came home yelling, breaking things, or passing out.
I tried reasoning, pleading, even crying, but nothing worked. Life had become unbearable.
One evening, after he returned home completely drunk and destroyed our living room furniture, I decided I could no longer stay passive. CONTINUE READING