Dear Diary
I grew up in a happy and loving family. My parents were both very good to me when I was little. They both came from a poor background, and when they started working they had to support their families, considering what they were earning was not much our lives were never that of abundance but rather necessity basis. However, amidst all that, my father never failed to make time for me, he would take me for evening walks with his small radio, and I remember us walking for hours at times while listening to BBC swahili or something else of that sort. And I remember enjoying this so much. We would talk and on our way back home my father would tell me stories from his childhood and how he grew up. By this time I had only one sibling a little brother who was born when I was almost 6years old.
My mother, was a hard worker. She worked so hard to support her parents and siblings, at the same time Assisting my father's brothers with school fees and all. I remember my mother sewing a school uniform for one of my father's little brother by hand from one of my Father's old work uniforms. She was gifted with skills and a good heart. All the while, I always had plenty of school uniforms, my mum always made sure that I had at least five shirts and three skirts for my school uniform. I always had a nice school bag and nice shoes. Looking Back now I do not know how she did it, but I always had plenty of whatever was basic for a little girl.
When I was 9years old someone's tongue slipped, and it was that day when I realized that my Father was not biologically my father. As a child, I did not fully get what was going on, I remember wondering if that meant my father didn't love me and if one day he will change and start treating me bad because I was not really his child but he never did. My father loves me, as if I were his own. He has never once treated me like a step child, and as I grow older my father and I are becoming friends. We talk and joke and My father has a special place in my heart. All those good things that fathers and daughters do, the memories and the stories and the funny stuffs from the childhood, all that I have because of my father. When I was 9years old I also become a sister to a beautiful little girl that was born that year, and she is my best friend to date. And despite now knowing we are only half siblings she loves me to death. And I would donate an organ for her if she ever needs it! That's how much I love her.
However, from the day that I realised that I have another father somewhere I never stopped wondering. I always wondered what he was like, if he had another family, other siblings that I did not know of. I remember wondering if things might have been different if I knew my Bio-Father, constantly wondering how my life would have been if he were around. I made an attempt once to ask my mum about it but I was dismissed. And I knew never to ask again. As I grew older so did my curiosity grew. The problem was, no one was talking, not my grandparents, or my uncles no one. They all loved my mum so much and were respecting her wishes of not telling anything about the man who fathered me. Sometimes I would think of him, wonder if he was thinking of me as well. And wonder why he never looked for me. Sometimes, I would cry because I felt pain that I could not explain, the not knowing was killing me, I'd sit there and wonder and cry and look at the sky and wonder what his life was like. I remember crying myself to sleep a lot in secondary school. There was constant pain in my heart and a wonder in my head. However, I never dared to ask my mum, because as her daughter I could see that my ever strong mother was always hurt by such a mention, or whenever she talked about my birth and pregnancy. All that I knew was that My father had hurt my mother so much for her to feel so sad whenever she remembered those times.
All these years, my step father continued to be a wonderful father to me. But it was my mother who made sure that I never lacked a thing in mylife. From school, to nice clothes, expensive private tuitions and all that she could afford to give me. Although our family was not rich, I can still proudly say that I had a very luxurious childhood. Years passed by, and I remember passing my primary school exams but my mum opted for a private school instead, and the same thing for my o'level exams. Over the years our financial situation improved, and to date my parents are well off.
After college I started working, and in six moths I moved out of my parents house and started living on my own. This is when I found my father. It felt like I was dreaming. I was 24years of age by then and I could not believe that it was happening. It felt so surreal, and I was so overjoyed and I thanked God for all that had happened. I found out that he had three other children, my siblings. Two boys and a girl, a girl was born less than two years after I was born. I have never met her to date because she lives abroad. However we talk almost everyday and I have never met a person who was so excited to have a big sister than she was. To me she is a blessing, another sister who loves so me much and me her, and from all that followed, she is the blessing and a my silver lining in a cloud.
My brothers, good kids I have met them both, one is in College and another in secondary school. I am a sister to them, they love me, respect me and I scold them when the need be. And they listen.
My Bio- father on the other hand is the cloud. He is not a colourful painting that I had him painted in my head. I admit that he has been a good father to my three siblings. However I do admit that it is because of his wife that he was able to pull all that off. He never keeps promises, even the little ones that he makes. He drinks and he is so irresponsible when it comes to his health and he wouldn't listen no matter how or who tells him to stop.
I got admission for a masters program, and when my sister heard she persuaded my Bio-father to pay for it, so he said he would. However, until now the fee's second installment is way overdue by three months, and my assignments and tests were not being marked anymore because I hadn't finished paying the fees. I tried talking and explaining to him what was happening, but in the end he stopped taking my calls. Or when he picked he simply said he would call me back and he never did.
Two weeks ago, I was calling him, I wanted to meet him so that I can tell him that I was planning to introduce my boyfriend to my parents (mum and step Dad) and that I was going to be betrothed, he never picked the calls,and he never called back. A lot more silence followed, and to me it felt like stab wounds in myheart. He had rejected me once again, showed me how much I simply did not mean a damn thing to him, and that I could just go to hell for all he cared. That's how it felt, when your father stop answering your calls, nothing can be more painful than that.
I took courage, and I asked one of my mum's college friend what had happened between my mum and my Bio-father to make my mum hate him so much, what I heard was shocking. I started to understand what my mum had to live with everyday whenever she saw me, and I am now wondering how she could have loved as much as she did given the circumstances surrounding my birth. I now do not know what to feel about him. And I wonder he if he deserves my respect at all. I'm thinking what if a man did to me what he did to my mother? And wonder if I will be able to raise such a kid with so much and protection as my mum raised me. And what's worse, I don't think he has ever apologised to my mother for what he did to her, or thanked my step father for raising as his own. How can I respect or love such a person for that matter?
All that he has brought in mylife apart from pain is my siblings, his children. They are a wonderful wonderful most amazing thing to ever happened from such a bad situation. And only for their sake I can not find it in my heart to hate him, but I do not think I will ever love him the way a daughter should love a father. But my siblings, I would go to the moon and back for them. I had two, Now I have five, and All of them good kids, who loves me and me them.
All that has happened lately have taught me several things,first that I already have a father and I really did not need another one. Secondly that my mother is an Angel and that I should keep praying for her everyday. And third that sometimes not knowing is not such a bad thing.
And that is my story.
Yours truly,
Rubi
