With two over-sized suitcases filled with presents for my family, I headed towards home on Christmas eve. Unbeknownst to me, I was walking towards the path of destruction.
This was the year I died. It was also the year when I started to live, once again.
This was the year when I began to write about the ordeal that had become my identity. What I didn’t know was that the story which I had started to write was still unfolding.
What prompted me to write my story, was that most people that I met after the incident, were curious to know how I did what I did. People wanted to know details about my struggle. And most of all, people I knew wanted to know how I managed to stay happy after a catastrophic incident in my life.
An excerpt of my book is availablehere
Links to the new reports of the incident :