My house was about to be locked.......
On the 29th of November 2018 just because I was not able to pay the rent.
I posted it on Facebook seeking assistance but all I got were 2 likes and zero comments.
So I sent 250 messages to my contact list requesting for a loan of $1500.
Sadly, only 10 people replied. 6 out of the 10 claimed they couldn't help. Only 1 out of the 4 who said they could help actually gave me some money but the rest only gave me excuses and never picked my calls.
In the end, my door was locked. I had nowhere to sleep.
I walked in the dark seeking options and sadly, a thief stole my empty purse with my identity card in it.
He was badly hit by a fast moving car as he was running away, so he died.
Fast forward >> The next day, news quickly spread around that I had died.
About 2,500 people posted on my wall how they knew me. How great I was!
A committee was formed by my loyal friends who contributed $18000 to feed the guests at my funeral..
My colleagues at work teamed up and brought another $4500 for a coffin, tents and chairs.
I was to be buried in a coffin worth $1500 - the same amount I needed for rent.
Relatives also met. It was a rare occasion for them to meet, so they met and contributed an extra $3000.
Everyone wanted to volunteer in order to appear they were helping. They printed T-shirts with my image.
Each T-shirt costing $2,50, so the T-shirt man made about $25000 from my presumed death.
Everyone wanted to speak at my funeral. There was drama all over from people who never knew how I survived.
Speeches were made on how talented I was, even by those who never attended my events.
The few friends who supported me didn't even get the chance to speak during my funeral - although they new the truth.
In fact, they were prime suspects for my 'death'.
You could imagine how the scene turned after I showed up alive.
Some thought I was a ghost.
This is the irony of life; we love the dead more than the living.
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