There was confusion and disbelief in Runda last Friday afternoon when a woman, assumed by many to be a mere househelp, shocked onlookers by getting into a black Bentley escorted by two police motorbikes.
What started as a normal day turned into a scene out of a movie. Neighbors, house staff, and even the security guards could hardly believe their eyes.
According to witnesses, the woman had been seen walking around in slippers and a simple dera dress earlier in the day, seemingly running errands and helping with chores at a residence she frequented.
No one paid her much attention after all, she looked like any other domestic worker. But what happened later in the day rewrote the narrative entirely.
She walked out in a designer dress, heels clicking confidently on the driveway, stepped into a luxury car that had been waiting for her, and was escorted out of the estate like royalty.
That woman was me. For months, I had visited my cousin in Runda as I navigated a phase of my life I never imagined I would go through. I had lost everything.
My business collapsed during the pandemic, my marriage had ended bitterly, and with nowhere to stay, I moved in with my cousin to recover. She graciously allowed me to stay, and though she never treated me like a househelp, her family and neighbors naturally assumed that’s what I was.
I didn’t correct them. Let them think what they want, I told myself. I was fighting silent battles no one could see. Every morning, I would wake up before everyone else, help my cousin with chores, and accompany her to the market or to visit her friends.
I heard the whispers. I saw the stares. Some of the neighbors even instructed me to clean their cars or fetch items from their shops. I swallowed my pride and did what I had to, because deep inside, I knew I wasn’t going to stay down forever.
What those people didn’t know was that I had made a decision to change my life entirely. After months of depression, I knew I needed a different kind of intervention something spiritual, something deeper than just job applications and failed attempts at business revival. That’s when I reached out to Kiwanga Doctors.
A friend had told me about them in hushed tones, saying they helped her rebuild her life after years of being mocked and underestimated. I had nothing left to lose, so I made the call.
I was welcomed warmly, and after explaining my struggles, they recommended a combination of spiritual guidance, a prosperity charm, and cleansing herbs to rid myself of lingering bad luck.
Things started shifting immediately. I was connected to an investor looking for a silent partner in a logistics company. Within weeks, I was back in business only this time with better insight, stronger instincts, and divine backing.
Kiwanga Doctors also gave me a protection charm that helped guard me from jealousy and spiritual attacks, especially as my fortunes began to rise. I didn’t move out of my cousin’s place immediately. I kept my progress quiet.
I wanted to rebuild silently, let the universe balance itself without attracting attention. But on that day, the day I drove off in a Bentley, I had just signed a major contract worth millions.
My business had expanded into three counties. I was heading to a government meeting, and the police escort was arranged to ensure I arrived safely. I stepped out of that gate not as a househelp, not as a woman who had failed, but as a warrior who had fought, fallen, and risen again.
The neighbors were speechless. I heard one whisper, “But that’s the housegirl who walks barefoot!” Another said, “We should be careful how we treat people. You never know who you’re looking down on.”
It was the sweetest moment of my life not out of revenge, but validation. For anyone out there feeling lost, mocked, or stuck, I’m living proof that your story isn’t over. Kiwanga Doctors restored what I had lost and gave me back more than just wealth they gave me dignity, clarity, and confidence.
You can contact them too at +254116469840, email [email protected], or visit www.kiwangadoctors.co.ke.
