LIFE IN A VOID

“My name is…..”I had to interview him. He wanted to speak up.

“are you sure you want your name to be exposed on my blog?” I interrupted.

“I don’t mind. I have nothing to lose. It doesn’t bother me. Do what you think is best.”

What is best I think is hiding his name.

“I grew up with you in Umoja, my mum would bring me to aunty’s place ,your mum, and playing with you as my favorite cousin was all I longed for.”

“Yes yes I remember. If only we could go back to being kids again. Do you remember that one time we almost burned down the house?” I asked.

“I remember it like it was yesterday. Its weird how our memories dig deep into our childhood. For some of us we grow up but our childhood never leaves us. Some childhoods have ugly stories that it taunts you. Mine begins with the departure of a dad.”

We always reminded each other of the story every time we met. On that particular day, my cousin was at our place and my mum needed to buy ingredients for lunch. She decided since we were playing inside the house she would lock us in and rush out because there was no one to watch over us. Then I don’t really know how we ended up playing with paraffin and pouring it on the floor and furniture. Mum came back later and found us and she vowed never to leave kids alone in the house.

So back to the story….

“I was born alone. With no siblings. Raised by a single parent, there was no joy. Home didn’t feel like home. Home was mum. How do you feel at home when mum isn’t around because she has to go out there and fend for me. At a very early age I was so mature. I did everything in the house. I learnt how to wash dishes very early in life, how to cook and how to wash my clothes. At 5 I would do things that my agemates didn’t know how to do. I loved my mum more than anything but how was I supposed to show her that.”

There was a long pause before he continued……

“My mum became an addict and my guessing is it was to deal with the mystery that befell her upon departure of my dad immediately when I was born. He left mahn. He left. I don’t know how he looks like. I don’t know if he is still alive or dead. I have no picture of him. He probably doesn’t even know what mum named me after he left. NOTHING. I don’t know of which tribe he is from. Anytime I tried to breech the subject concerning my dad, my mum would get angry and I let the subject slide. Rumour has it that he was a man from coast. I would hear family members say so. But which coast? Was he a man from the coastal side of Kenya or Tanzania? I would ask myself questions. I wanted to have a dad like other kids. You really don’t know how bad it is for a male to lack a male figure in their life. It sucks.”

“Am really sorry cuz.”I didn’t know what to really say.

“I would see a man and ask myself if that was my dad. Would my dad look like that? So as a kid I had a lot going on. I pictured how my dad would come back and mum would be happy again. With time mum was in a good place. She paid my school fees, she provided enough, she would buy every trending cloth in the market and yes life was better. Money can quiet some noises in life I guess.”

“Can we say money is everything? Did dad show up?” I asked.

“Money is not everything. Not even close to anything. It just helps us survive. People who care for you and genuinely love you is everything. I learnt that in my journey through life. Dad never showed up. I still don’t know him.”

“After being in a stable place financially did that make aunty happy?” I asked curiously because to me having money should erase some problems.

“I can’t really tell. Some things improved and some things worsened. I didn’t see her sad and she gave me what I wanted but I still missed the motherly love. I could feel it from a distance but I needed more. The bad thing is she starting smoking a lot. I got concerned but what would I do? In 2017 she suddenly got sick. It was so sudden and I didn’t know I would loose her so soon. Doctors said she had a brain tumor that got noticed too late. She was admitted on a Thursday in Kenyatta hospital and died on Tuesday the following week. I’ve never been so weak in my life. When someone you love dies you wish you could have told them more how much you loved them. You could have made them their favorite meal daily. You could have appreciated them more in all ways possible.”

I looked at him with pity and tried to hide my tears. That was a lot for one person.

“For the first time, I cried until there was no more tears left. Life became very hard for me both in school and at home. The house we lived with my mum was a rented one so I couldn’t pay the rent and I had to move out and live with another relative. By this time I had joined high school and was in form one. I came ‘home’ after one of the midterms and found out that my relative had moved out and most of my things got lost in the process. Things like my birth certificate. I wanted to keep my mother’s jewellery just as a reminder of her but now they were gone. I felt bad but what would I do? Did I mention about some bank savings? I was convinced my mum had savings for me but upon it being checked my bank account was zero! Zero! Till date I feel like someone withdrew it but I don’t have evidence for my claims.

Being in school made me happy. It calmed me down. I would do my best in school and strive to become a better version of myself. Being in such a world not everyone would care about your story. No one wants to know. You will be treated like any other person. You’ll be in a friend group and they will speak proudly of their parents and what do you have? Or in a matatu and the conductor would rudely comment “nakaa mama yako?” They say this not knowing how much impact it will have on you. That’s life.

Its been years since she passed away and am joining campus soon. I’ll make her proud. I look back and see how far I’ve come. All glory and honor to God.

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IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY AUNT

hey loves its been a minute. i did this interview two weeks ago. School work had me wrapped.

if you have any story to share reach out to my number, instagram mutai_m or my email address bettcaro92@gmail.com.

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Thank you for your time. chao.