I had a new family, a new mum, new dad and two new brothers. I can’t tell whether they were shocked about this “new face”….but for me that was too much. An impromptu change of everything…was it to be for my favor? Let’s find out.
I now had a new face to call dad. Someone had never seen nor heard about before. Did he really deserve the new title? How had he suddenly become my dad?
He could only accommodate all this if he had a big heart. Guess what, that was him! The best dad I could ever have.
Since then, he proudly referred to me as his first born. I wondered how this could be true since I had been named after my mother’s mother.
Best were the days when he hurriedly came home in the evening with a Kilo or two of meat. This was mostly after an encounter with the common happy hour at a his favorite joint nearby.
He had his specific seat at the right corner of the house. A seat no one else could tamper with or without his presence.
Sorry to my younger brothers who often got thorough beatings from my mum, simply because they had not even disrespected but shown an intention to disrespect him? Mum had set high standards of respect for him, and could never negotiate on any misconduct or whatsoever concerning dad.
Too bad that mothers will nowadays contribute and entertain their children to disrespect their fathers.
He proved to deserve the respect. I concur to the fact that respect is earned. Mum saw this early before, we then learnt to love and respect him the more and more we interacted.
He was a man of admirable character. He loved us with his whole heart and showed it with his kind actions and words. I strongly believe that he was among the few chosen men of courage and full of words of wisdom.
He knew how to prioritize his family before anything else. As a man of strong Christian values he ensured that the family stayed united and in words that always struck a chord in our hearts he would say, “A family that prays together stays together.”
This must have been among the gentlest, thoughtful, humble, caring and intelligent men who ever lived.
He had purposed to be organized, polite and at peace with God and all men.
His legacy shall ever exist.
After sitting and relaxing, he would jump into igniting the happy hour extension. The most interesting part of this was our childhood stories he vividly narrated. He was our able, gentle but wise dad. He had a story about each.
Suspicion developed in me when I came to realize that everyone else had childhood photos as proof of the stories except me. I have just concluded that dad faked these stories to make me feel the sense of belonging in the family. Lies hurt, but to him, that was all I needed to console my endless doubts.
Dad’s and mum’s love for me was growing excessively. They were both police officers. During those days, their salaries were really way below all the family required to run effectively. Mum purposed to offer her best. I recall she could at times commit to side hustles just to make ends meet.
I had been coping well with the new environment until when I heard mum give hints I had been expectant to hear about.
Her friends had paid an afternoon visit when I had her refer to me as “the one who made me drop out of school.” Really…. How?
I must have mistakenly heard her say this. Am sure mum never intended to let me hear this piercing statement.
Insufficient to quench the thirst.
As I grew to be wiser, I could observe her in her imaginations and notice the guilt deeply burning in her. Many are the times she could stare at me and probably wonder what could have happened if her plans had prevailed.
She ended up loving me excessively. At times it was easier for her to bring me breakfast by my bedside.
It’s too unfortunate that her love never tamed down my desire to find out who my biological father was.
With time, my grandparents were aged and finally passed away. Some of my uncles died too and worst of all, my mother passed away in 2003.
That’s when I became conscious that there was a secret that was almost fading away from me. And finally I would have no one to source out from.
Retrieving the top secret.
It took me 10 more years to strategize the wisest and most friendly way to dig deep into the bitter truth.
Finally I settled for a brilliant idea. In 2012,I approached my uncle, and convinced him about a book I was working on.
I made him understand about the gaps I had discovered while working on the story line. And hence there was need to find out the truth about my childhood.
His discomfort as I shared my interests was a clear sign that there must have a big deal in this. Convincingly, he didn’t have an option other than comprehensively explain everything to me.
This is how I learnt that my mum had been raped by her teacher while in form two and became pregnant. Circumstances forced her to drop out of school. She became a victim of emotional decisions and decided to take poison. Luckily her parents realized in good time and rushed her to the hospital.
She was then admitted in the hospital under police guard. She knew she was to be charged with attempted suicide and murder of the unborn child, who was to be me.
After birth she successfully and mysteriously managed to abandon me in the hospital and escaped. That’s how she had landed on her uncles hands and got her way into the police service.
My grandparents took me home and that’s how I had become their last born until later when mum came and stole me from them
I had all the information, richly equipped to massively hunt for my biological father.
Through my uncle, I had also learnt that the alleged man’s family had offered dowry to my grandparents as reconciliation and to have my mum into their family as a wife. My grandfather had strongly rejected all the offers.
My desire to meet “this man” said to be my father was now at its peak.
I set up a journey in hunt for him. I carefully drove across the ridges towards the direction my uncle gave me.
Throughout the journey I had lots of questions flowing in my mind. Among the questions were….
1. What kind of man could he be?
2. Why hadn’t he shown any interest to look for me at any moment?
3. Was he interested in meeting me?
Just like a river breaks its banks, the questions were now overflowing in me.
4. What was it that I was looking for; Something that Sir Ernest Kiumbe , Who had nurtured and raised me as a dad, hadn’t been able to offer for me?
There was definitely nothing.
He had gone to the points of valuing and raising me as his first born.
He had never made me feel misplaced.
He had great love for me.
What else could I be looking for?
My dad never knew that I knew he never wished to let me know the truth that he was not my biological father. This is a secret he had successfully managed and contained to himself.
What would come out of my dad if he learnt that I had been out hunting for a father? A father who cared nothing about me….!
Couldn’t this raise trauma for him?
I was sure that that’s not what I had wished for a man who raised, truly loved and cared for me.
With age I had also learnt to love and care more for him.
I had an about turn and headed back home. I was now psychologically convinced that Sir Ernest Kiumbe was an undisputed hero into my life.
I owed him an appreciation for choosing to be my dad. After all he had a choice to command my mum to leave me under my grand’s care. He made a choice out of compassion. I had to thank him for a role he had been secretly playing wishing I never knew the truth.
I was set for glorious party to appreciate his contribution in my life to be held on 12th December 2018.
Death is cruel. It took away my dad barely two months to the party dates. The day I had been preparing for in honor of his unconditional love for a daughter he had adopted. A secret and had never wished to let me know about it.
It’s too bad that he knew and knew that I didn’t know anything about the secret.
Most importantly: His legacy remains!
This shall always be the greatest inspiration towards my strong advocacy and support to the abandoned babies, crisis pregnancies and protection against violation of girl child rights.
Watch this space for a book launch soon!
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