File photo of a worried man
Dear GhanaWeb,
I’m a young man in my early 30s, working from home on my computer. I earn over $1,000 a day now, and it feels surreal to even say that. Just two years ago, I was broke, struggling, and barely surviving.
Slowly, through tireless self-learning and consistency, my life turned around.
Today, I have more money than I know what to do with. I have cars, a house, and a massive bank balance. Yet, I still work every day because I’m terrified of ever being broke again.
But here’s my truth: I’m dying, slowly.
I’ve been a sick child for as long as I can remember. At 13, I was bedridden for two years due to unexplained waist and knee issues. At 16, I had my appendix removed.
Shortly after that, I survived a motor accident that nearly took my leg.
At 22, I was wrongly jailed for six months. Just a month after I was released, my mother passed. A year later, I lost my father too.
I dropped out of school to take care of my younger siblings, but tragedy kept knocking. My sister got pregnant and dropped out, leaving just the boys in school. I did my best to keep us going.
At 26, while doing construction work, I fell from a third-floor building and ended up in a wheelchair for nearly a year. That downtime became my turning point, I poured everything into learning, reading, and building a skill I could survive on.
Two years ago, things finally turned around. My efforts started paying off. I started making real money, and for the first time, I saw light.
But now, it’s dark again.
For months, I’ve been sick. My stomach wouldn’t let me rest. I avoided hospitals because of everything I’ve been through, I trusted herbal remedies. Eventually, the pain became unbearable. I went to the hospital, and they diagnosed me with Stage III colon cancer.
Everyone says, “Use your money for treatment,” but I’ve read, I’ve researched, survival is slim. Travel? Expensive treatment abroad? It might only buy time. I’m not afraid of death. I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes in 30 years.
I ask myself: am I cursed? Why is my life always uphill? Why does peace never last?
Despite everything, by God’s grace, I’ve raised my siblings out of poverty. They’re on the right path now. My youngest brother is learning quickly and thriving. There’s more than enough left for them when I’m gone.
I’m tired. I’m not writing for pity. I just want someone to understand what it’s like to fight and fight and still lose to life.
What would you do if you were me?
FG/EB