It's me Irine a 20 years old living with my mother in an old grass-thatched two-room house where the kitchen and sitting room is in one room and the bedroom for my mum at a slum here in Eldoret Kenya. These slums are congested such that when the neighbor stretches his arms one may proceed to your house. I had friends Njeri and Mwaniki in the village whom they used to keep me company all along. We grew up as street children because every time you could find us in the litter disposal area trying to look for something to eat because life was really hard surviving with that old granny in the house. For that long period, I grew up knowing that she is my real biological mother and she also treated me as her daughter. It's a chilly morning I woke up from my bed that is some stones raised to a certain level covered with grass and animal skin (Ngozi) which I used to sleep on with ragged finished clothes sewed together used as a blanket. I woke up trying to call out ‘mum…’ ‘Mum…’ nobody answered I put on my torn shoes, my big thumbs could peep and tell me good morning as well. I knelt prayed the morning prayers ready for a new day. I went to my mother's room and she was not there I took a cup of water and washed my face with the little water I got from the pot. I went outside to find out where my mum had gone. Outside I found my friends as usual (niaje Njeri and Mwaniki) this is the local language we always use in the village for teenagers like me meaning good morning my friends. Then I asked them have you seen my mother? They told me they hadn't seen her I didn`t worry much since my mom was well when we slept yester night and I hopefully knew maybe she had gone to fetch water since we used to fetch water from a far place and you needed to wake up early to get the water because of the borehole’s could dry up any time of the day. As we were still talking with my friend's mom arrived from a distance I could see her coming with a pot of water on her head.