For over 20 years in Jamaica, I helped thousands of youth to read and write, acquire a job, help build churches, assist in the development of the community, and participate in many good deeds.

While I was doing this, many people from my community laughed behind my back, shamed me, and told me that I was a madman who didn’t know anything. This also included some people from my own family.

However, it never stopped me from helping the people in need.

At the age of 43, I came to New York with my then-wife, who got a job in New York as a teacher. Just one year later, in April 2004, I was on my way to work when I met a terrible accident that changed my life – I went under a train and had my leg cut off.

By December 2006, my wife had thrown me out into the street without a single penny to my name. She stole everything I had, and what she couldn’t steal, she destroyed. I spent the next six years going in and out of the court while she told her lies. One of the most hurtful parts of the whole ordeal for me was that my sister also sided with her.

My sister has a Master’s degree and is a nurse, so she always looks down on people who do not have a college degree. I did not get the opportunity to study in college, so my sister did not have high regard for me and did not offer me any assistance – instead, she vilified me in court.

However, when my family did not come for my assistance, people with whom I had no blood ties did.

A married lady in my community took pity on me and gave me shelter and food at her home for two weeks. She trusted me with her two daughters, 10 and 12 years old. I also found refuge in the Salvation Army and the shelter system in New York City. The only one in my family whom I could count on was my cousin Gee and her children.