Despite Earning Ksh110K Salary, I Became Homeless Over Rent Arrears

A common concern I hear from many of my friends is the constant pressure of repeated money requests from family and close circles, a sought of black tax.

These are friends who are hardworking, financially responsible, and deeply committed to their loved ones. They’re often the dependable ones who seem to have it all together. 

No one ever acknowledges their struggles.

One of them recently shared how mentally drained she has been. She is among the few who made it in her family, so the requests never stop. She told narrated the guilt that creeps in every time she thinks of saying no and how she has tried to talk herself out of it, and to convince herself that it’s okay to set boundaries. But she’s still stuck.

At night, she lies awake, worried sick about her dwindling financial situation. She wants to do something about it, but whenever a new call from home comes in, she replays the conversation in her head. Should I say no? What if they really need it?

Each day, she’s more exhausted, mentally drained, emotionally stretched, and physically tired. She loves her family. She wants to help. But she’s also drowning.

She was me.

The Long Road from the Village to the Big Corner Office

I was born to poor parents with seven siblings.

Both my parents were primary school teachers in the village, but that didn’t make us any different from all the other households who were also struggling to put a meal on the table. Things were always tough, and we barely had enough.

Most evenings, I’d sit under the guava tree behind our grass-thatched house deep in the village with my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands, watching planes across the sky. I believed, with the blind audacity only the young and naïve possess, that one day I’d board one.

I was in a provincial high school back in the day. My mum, though struggling, worked hard to provide for us. She made sure we had a good education because she also believed, like me, that it was the only way to change our story. And it did.

I finally made it to the university to pursue my Bachelor's Degree in Business and Finance. Luckily, I got a good job as a fresh graduate at one of the Big Four accounting firms in Kenya, which paid well. 

I took home a decent Ksh120,000 gross salary, a Ksh85,000 net pay after deductions, which was sizeable in Kenya’s employment standards. To celebrate, I called home and shared the good news without hiding my salary. In retrospect, that was my first mistake. 

I shouldn’t have shared exactly how much I was getting. Two of my elder siblings were smart enough to hide such details.

The Cost of ‘Making it’

I wasn’t the firstborn, but since I was the only one who earned ‘a lot’, I automatically became the breadwinner. I was assigned financial roles, from helping my parents pay back their loans and debts to feeding them and helping with my younger siblings’ school fees.

And since good news always has an audience, my good-paying job was heard around the family. Relatives called me for school fees, hospital bills, emergencies, rent, or "just something small." 

Uncles, whom I had very little interactions with while growing up (I bet they didn’t even know my name), now had my phone number and called often to check up on me. Except the call never ended without them asking for Ksh500. Long-lost cousins also came around.

Giving Too Much Left Me With Nothing

Bills started piling up, and my savings quickly depleted. I had to go into debt to keep helping because I felt responsible, especially toward my parents. I skipped rent more than once and even defaulted on a loan.

Friends and family still asked for help, even when I hinted at my own struggles. I stopped helping friends because I genuinely couldn’t afford. I, however, still struggled with funneling money to my family. 

I kept taking loans from different lenders just to keep up, and my paycheck was running in the negative at this point. I stopped hanging out with friends, not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t explain why I was always broke.

When I tried confiding in my family about my struggles, the pressure didn’t ease. 

Loan sharks don’t play with their money, and when I defaulted, they auctioned my belongings. Rent was due the same week, and I still had half of last month's arrears not paid. I had to move out and crash at a friend’s place for a few months.

Learning Financial Discipline From a Friend

My friend, on whose couch I crashed, was earning a much lower salary than me. She was the firstborn in their family and shouldered responsibilities. But living with her and seeing how planned and clean her life was, I got envious.

She would come home with groceries that matched her meal plan. She tracked her spending diligently. She said she didn’t have any debts, which was a shock to me. She was so structured that I was ashamed of my decisions.

The first thing I had to do was learn to say no to my family (It wasn’t easy). The guilt almost killed me, but I had to be assertive in limiting my expenditure on them.

Rebuilding My Life

I wrote down all my debts by date and amount and resolved to tackle the smallest ones first. Knocking them out fast gave me the motivation.

Tip: Automate minimum payments for the big ones and aggressively clear the small ones to build psychological wins.

I then created a simple budget with just four categories: Rent, Food, Transport, and Savings. 

I kept it simple because budgeting always made me anxious. This way, it was manageable. I started saving just 10% of my income, no matter how small it looked. I opened a separate mobile wallet for it, with limited access, so I’d think twice before touching it.

Tip: Learn the 50/30/20 rule — 50% needs, 30% wants, 20% savings/debt repayment. It provides a flowing structure.

After covering my essentials and savings, I set aside only a fixed monthly amount I could comfortably send home. I wasn’t going to be controlled by guilt anymore. If the amount was gone for the month, I simply said I’d help once I had some money.

Tip: Give what you can without hurting yourself. Help from what you have left, not from what you need to survive.

Once I had savings and fewer debts, I began to invest. I started with a money market fund, then learned about SACCOs and low-risk government bonds.

I’m now exploring side hustles that match my skills.

Tip: Don’t wait to be rich to start investing. Start with what you have.