GROWING UP WITHOUT my parents was not a bed of roses for me back in Africa, more so because I knew they were alive somewhere. I terribly missed them, even though I didn’t know them. Though my grandmother was always there, being the one who brought me up, I grew up with a great sense of emptiness. It was tough watching other kids with their parents. I yearned to be like them. It left me curious to know about my parents, why they should have abandoned me as an infant. I knew there must have been dramas between my mother and father before they separated. It, however, was not until my grandmother gave me their story that I got an idea about who they were and how it all started. I would later piece her recollections together with what I would learn from Watur, a stranger I would come to loath, to understand exactly what had happened. Teresia Muthoni, my mother, met my father, Kiragu, while they were still in high school. As grandma narrated it to me, Muthoni just upped early one morning and left the house to visit Kiragu’s parents’ home. She found Kiragu’s mother in her kitchen preparing breakfast. Kiragu soon joined them and after breakfast, Muthoni had insisted that she and her lover go somewhere as she had something to tell him. It was then that she had broken the news to him that she was pregnant. The news came with great shock to Kiragu. Fatherhood was the...
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