Maina was a prominent man in his village and several ridges away from his home . He was vile, and this made him even more popular. This man was a daily drunkard, a shameless one in this case. He never provided for his family and all he cared about was himself.
It's disheartening to introduce this man as my father but let me honour him for that one thing.
I'm the first born in my mother's house, I've two other sibling, male and female. Being the eldest, a huge responsibility was placed on my shoulders from a young age to oversee the wellbeing of my younger sibs. This was no easy task as my mother hopped around to at least have a meal on the table. I'd babysit as she worked and never had the luxury of schooling as my mother wouldn't afford it.
My father,Maina was the worst nightmare that ever occurred to us growing up. He was a disgrace and being associated with him on a daily basis meant shame and low self esteem. How do you walk in the public when your father acts like a clown?
Maina would get drunk at the village square, strip naked and flame the clothes he once wore. He would then walk back home naked and if my mother dared to voice it out, she would be mercilessly battered, us included.
He never tried covering up at all, he would walk around the house so and demand for food which he never provided.
Worst of all was the fact that, through my formative years, Maina would have sex with my mother at our watch. If we tried shutting our eyes in defiance, we would be severely beaten up afterwards.
He sold bhang and that was his occupation all through. He had it planted on our farm and he bribed authorities and never was he apprehended. He would force us to help in packaging and that was the only moment he would be gentle with us. Immediately after he would hurl insults at us asking us to go "sell our bodies" on the streets and come back with money.He offered us condoms but I was only eight years at the time.
The proceeds from his bhang business would solely serve his needs which was basically drinking and paying the village prostitutes who he'd make out with in the open,as he always complained about paying extra money for accomodation. Every soul knew that an abandoned cattle dip that sat in the middle of the village square,having previously served the community, became his lodge in. He would be seen walking towards the dip quite often with different women.
We were stigmatized as the village council concluded my father was insane and we were to be left alone since we're a cursed generation. No one would associate with us as we lived in abject poverty. I would steal from the villagers farms while my mother worked twice as hard to keep the family running.
One day, I left home early morning to a neighbouring village as I had been informed that a family needed a maid to assist their daughter who lived in the city. But unfortunately I was only twelve years old and illiterate so they couldn't hire me. I walked back home helpless.
Upon getting home, to our grass thatched, mad house, I opened the door only to find everyone asleep(so I thought). I tried waking each of them up, my sibs,mum and Maina without any response. Maina lay next to mama and I noticed her neck had been slit halfway and blood had oozed from it and so were my brother and sister. Their bodies were cold and none of them had a heartbeat. There was an empty glass bottle beside Maina and I concluded it must have been poison. He had ended it all.
I stared at the bloodbath before me,
I felt gutted, hopeless and lost. Tears flowed as I watched their lifeless bodies, I was completely numb.
Did Maina have to take my heart? Who would douse the searing pain that was consuming my soul?
It's disheartening to introduce this man as my father but let me honour him for that one thing.
I'm the first born in my mother's house, I've two other sibling, male and female. Being the eldest, a huge responsibility was placed on my shoulders from a young age to oversee the wellbeing of my younger sibs. This was no easy task as my mother hopped around to at least have a meal on the table. I'd babysit as she worked and never had the luxury of schooling as my mother wouldn't afford it.
My father,Maina was the worst nightmare that ever occurred to us growing up. He was a disgrace and being associated with him on a daily basis meant shame and low self esteem. How do you walk in the public when your father acts like a clown?
Maina would get drunk at the village square, strip naked and flame the clothes he once wore. He would then walk back home naked and if my mother dared to voice it out, she would be mercilessly battered, us included.
He never tried covering up at all, he would walk around the house so and demand for food which he never provided.
Worst of all was the fact that, through my formative years, Maina would have sex with my mother at our watch. If we tried shutting our eyes in defiance, we would be severely beaten up afterwards.
He sold bhang and that was his occupation all through. He had it planted on our farm and he bribed authorities and never was he apprehended. He would force us to help in packaging and that was the only moment he would be gentle with us. Immediately after he would hurl insults at us asking us to go "sell our bodies" on the streets and come back with money.He offered us condoms but I was only eight years at the time.
The proceeds from his bhang business would solely serve his needs which was basically drinking and paying the village prostitutes who he'd make out with in the open,as he always complained about paying extra money for accomodation. Every soul knew that an abandoned cattle dip that sat in the middle of the village square,having previously served the community, became his lodge in. He would be seen walking towards the dip quite often with different women.
We were stigmatized as the village council concluded my father was insane and we were to be left alone since we're a cursed generation. No one would associate with us as we lived in abject poverty. I would steal from the villagers farms while my mother worked twice as hard to keep the family running.
One day, I left home early morning to a neighbouring village as I had been informed that a family needed a maid to assist their daughter who lived in the city. But unfortunately I was only twelve years old and illiterate so they couldn't hire me. I walked back home helpless.
Upon getting home, to our grass thatched, mad house, I opened the door only to find everyone asleep(so I thought). I tried waking each of them up, my sibs,mum and Maina without any response. Maina lay next to mama and I noticed her neck had been slit halfway and blood had oozed from it and so were my brother and sister. Their bodies were cold and none of them had a heartbeat. There was an empty glass bottle beside Maina and I concluded it must have been poison. He had ended it all.
I stared at the bloodbath before me,
I felt gutted, hopeless and lost. Tears flowed as I watched their lifeless bodies, I was completely numb.
Did Maina have to take my heart? Who would douse the searing pain that was consuming my soul?