If you see me today, I would have a hard-time convincing you that I was once a hardcore street bully who thrived on harassing passersby.

This lifestyle, however, came to a screeching halt after my attempt to rob a lady of her Samsung handset was thwarted by the man she was with. I had just pulled away from a nine man criminal gang that I originally operated from and had set out on my own to visit terror on innocent citizens.

I ended up on the streets after it became difficult for my elderly grandmother, in whose custody my sibling and I had been left following the untimely demise of my mother, to provide for us. When I eventually turned 12, life was unbearable for us since I had become the sole bread winner and would often find myself on the wrong side having stolen from the neighbourhood just to put food on the table.

In my desperate search for a way out, I found myself in Nairobi’s Dandora dumpsite rummaging through toxic waste for anything edible. It was here that I met other boys, who like me, were looking for a better life.

I started operating from this filthy set up, known for its criminal elements, and together with my colleagues we would scavenge the garbage site collecting recyclable items which we would later hawk. We would also assault and rob people just so that we would not return home empty handed.

Enduring the life of salvaging through this nauseating toxic waste coupled with the biting cold in the dark streets, where drugs, uncontrolled sex and all manner of violent vices was the order of the day, was a nightmare.

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I thought life would finally become a little better when, after I turned 13, I was put in charge of the ‘store’ where I was to guard the gang’s stolen goods. This was, however, not to be because despite my increased duties, ‘payment’ remained meager.

I nonetheless stayed on with the gang until after we staged a deadly heist that saw the members turn on me. One of the members and myself had been given an assignment that would see the group make a ton of money and I remember leasing a gun for Sh10,000 before setting out for the ambush.

We successfully pulled off the heist but as we were fleeing, my accomplice was shot dead by the man we had robbed while I took off with the loot. At our den, I discovered that we had made off with Sh400,000 and I expected the other gang members to be pleased. This was not the case.

They derided me, calling me a coward who could not save a colleague’s life. To add insult to injury, they only gave me a paltry Sh7,000 from the loot, notwithstanding the deadly role I had played to bring the cash home, while they awarded themselves hefty amounts. This money could not even pay for the gun I had used in the robbery so I was essentially left empty handed. It was then that I took to the streets on my own and on that material day attempted to rob the couple.

After they thwarted my efforts and subdued me, I thought my days were over and expected a mob to descend on me at any moment.

You can therefore imagine my surprise when, instead of raising an alarm, the two talked to me and told me that they too were once street urchins just like me.

I listened in complete disbelief as they told me how their transformation came about and how they had since joined with other street urchins to form a band christened ‘Fortress Band’. They then invited me to join their drum-set band as an instrumentalist and I readily accepted. With time, I started going to school and would work with the band during the weekends.

After I finished my secondary education, I got a job with Children Africa — an NGO handling the plight of street families — where I work as a facilitator.