THE NAKED TRUTH BY Ken Kayange

                                                          

                          CHAPTER 1

                                                               PART 1

 

“Zena …! She would yell out.

“What! You mean you are still asleep at such a time, and especially not in your house?”

 That was obviously Mrs Wamuyu’s big and authoritative voice that kept everyone in their position. Mrs Wamuyu was a no nonsense woman more so when it came to keeping her home in order. Just like any other African woman would do. Having been raised in ancient ages when ladies were the early risers, she wouldn’t like to see her daughters drag in the bed past seven. She regarded this as laziness, a big threat to prosperity.

“Come on...” she raised her voice even higher.

“I said wake up and get moving, there are a lot of chores to get to by now. As a woman you shouldn't be asleep right now. I wonder the kind of generation we are bringing up....” She muttered to herself.

“But mum......!”

“But what ....? She yells out further.

“But what…? Get out of the blanket as fast as possible. I know of a saying that goes, a little sleep, a little slumber and poverty will follow you like an armed bandit” she added even furiously.

For Mrs Wamuyu a great home depends on what the parents are, the children would simply grow into what they have been trimmed into by the parents. If a parent allowed their children room to breathe, the child could simply end up breathing on their heads. Mrs Wamuyu chose on coughing fire when it meant to and drawing a red line where it was needed. The manner in which she handled things, the way she handled each and every aspect of the household determines what the children shall grow into and these she knew.

 Zena has no alternative but to rise up dragging herself like she would faint the next minute. She would pick her sandals and her towel and head to the living room. She can’t lament because she obviously knows who mama is. Her amusement is vividly seen by the silly things she does, kicking everything she meets in front of her, banging the door and shuffling her feet on the ground like the Maasai livestock headed for the fields. Despite all these, she has nothing to do but go as per the limits of the highway. She has to run within the Mrs Wamuyu lanes, she can’t be allowed to ruin by her own mother, a mother who knows what it means by a streamlined baby. She washed her face like as if it had been infested by deadly insects or rather it was somebody else’s.

 This was the lifestyle in Mr Wamuyu’s house. Everything was to remain intact. Manners remain manners and should be separated from bad manners.

 Zena was the one who would delay until she is woken up. Each and every day, the parents seemed too harsh on us. However, once we sat down, we noticed something, that they were after a good course. At least we saw meaning out of the meaningless, some moisture out of the dry breeze. What they kept instilling in the children was something only the stupid could forget, these was to stay in the heads and stick in it like glue. It was going to be the way lighter; it was to lead them in everything they did in life.

 Mr Wamuyu an old man of his standards, having fulfilled God’s commandments that ‘go yee into the world and fill the earth’ had given rise to five children, two daughters and three sons, having laid one son in peace. Very hardworking he was, he headed in his own direction; one he thought was right and wisest. Even when they told him that granite cannot produce water, he still could go ahead and wring it. 

 Daddy as his family referred to him, was a golden dad. Born in the early forties when the country was still under full control and suffering under the Whiteman’s government, he was the first born and thus all the responsibility of his family had been in his hand. This was to happen now that his father had gone rogue. Mr Taabu went out of his mind after he had been forced into the European Industries as a casual labourer. He used to work without headgears or any protection against bad breadth, sound and even physical injuries. The sound from the industries affected his brain and he ended up brain damaged. This incident happened when Wamuyu was still nineteen years of age.

 Grandpa then relocated from Kisumu where he used to work from Keroche Industries and got back to the countryside. He remained useless, God forbid. He started behaving just like any other mad man would behave. Many a times those who suffered most are the closest people - his children and the wife. He became very violent and when he started a fight in the house nobody could stand it but get their way out. This incident left all the corners of the house with sorrow, it made all the joy in the family to fade away like snow exposed to extreme heat. Everybody wondered why the nice old man would turn so brutal in that manner. He filled the house with humour that even the neighbours would come to hang around together with the family. Not even they knew why God would allow that to happen.

 He brutally inflicted pain on grandma and her saviour would be the passers-by or the villagers. These went on and on until he died one year later. This death would turn out to be the biggest shake in the long generation to come. Those days, the school going children were the big boys and girls who marry off these days, by then dad was in class two, he didn’t know how to read and write, he was forced to quit school and join the job market. At nineteen years, he became the bread winner of the family.

 Usually, when people get married you would think like something sorted them out, maybe some supernatural power. But that can’t be the case; the case is usually, life sorts’ people out. For instance, where would doctors meet farmers and marry, where would pilots meet hoteliers for marriage? Many a times, classes of life sort people out. The rich end up marrying the rich and the poor for the poor, the illiterate for their counterparts. However, those who go against this are ones or two in a million. For heaven’s sake, this one’s or two in a million find it hard to maintain their relationships for the rest of their lives. This is where superiority conflicts start erupting. The most learned looking down upon the illiterate. The driving class despising the walking class and so forth.

In the same case, Mr Wamuyu a half-literate young man came to meet Lucy an under-educated young woman and came together for a life factor. “Two cannot walk together” they say “unless they agree.” A family is created out of love and patience. Wamuyu earned more roles to play as the head of the family, the first, a family he did not take part in creating. The siblings cannot continue with schooling because their elder brother cannot provide for their food at the same time get them school requirements. This is like a very dark cloud set to bedevil the family. Nobody getting to high school, nobody from a single family getting to know how to read and write?

 The Wamuyu family therefore looks like a confused element in the society everybody is forced to look for their own life outside school, most of them girls, getting married and the boys who are the youngest set up a hustle. How were they going to survive anyway? This is the time when everyone disconnects themselves from you either in fear of dependency or becoming refugees in their homes. People are always good when you have something as well, when you find yourself with nothing; then just know that you’re going to lose plus those you thought  are close friends. However it’s the best time to gauge real and lifetime friends; Time to separate friends from companions.

 Mr Taabu and his wife were fertile. They gave rise to eleven children; four boys and the rest were girls. However, the wind that sways side by side daily, that wind that comes forth with no good luck swept away so many of their children. Out of the eleven children, grandpa only remained with three sons and one daughter- a total of four children. Most of the daughters died at marriage ages; ages they were supposed to bring back animals into the homestead. This left the couple with so many question marks. Andeyo had grown too weak due to too much thinking; day and night.

 The death of Taabu was not only a surprise for her but a shocker as well. Shock that caught her pants down. She was not seized at all; she only survived for a short period of time and passed on. People who knew how to lough would simply lough at the bereaved, the ones with clean and healthy teeth to display, teeth that can be gotten to the market and get sold, however those with brown teeth, those who didn’t know how to lough carelessly came and  held the children by their hands.

 They encouraged them and told them that this is the way for each and every one of us living in the sun. They asked Wamuyu to stand firmly like the eldest son and ensure that the house remained orderly like it had been.

 “Wamuyu, you’re just our son and like a community, we have to be by your side. Losing         your parents does not mean that you’ve lost everything. What remains therefore is, fold your sleeves, fold your trouser, pick your jembe and start working. Ensure that these kids never lack. Fight so hard that they grow up. In this entire journey, you should always know that your creator is watching and that his plans for you are so big. He can never let you suffer for no good reason because if He does then why would He have created you? We are all sojourners in this land, this   is not our place”.

 Just like he had been told, he shook their hands in agreement

 

 

                                                                             PART II

 “Sometimes an impasse arises when one has no idea about life, what life is all about; it sounds like a ball inside a tank of water. It floats on water swayed side by side by the winds. The difficult part of it comes when you don’t know your destiny. God has the plan, the master plan for your life, but the biggest question normally is, do you have the biggest dreams of your life? Do you ever wish to have something great in this life? Do you ever wish to make some great achievements in this life? God is only a fulfiller of dreams. Yes, it sounds nice but the question is do you know what you want in life so that the fulfiller can complete his part?”

It seemed like a nuisance to me whenever anybody gave me such pieces of advice, I felt like they are just demeaning me and felt useless.

            “Mmmhh....!  Raymond, are you getting me right?”

            “Yes dad!”

I obviously had to give it a yes. One could not and never dare come across the golden father and miss such words of wisdom.”

            “As the head of the family .....?” He proceeded on.

            “We started working at very tender ages, ages we were expected to be in school.”  She said it looking directly into my eyes.

            “We have given you a chance to prove yourselves in school by working hard, sweating, putting in more efforts day in day out, a chance to prove your capabilities, to prove that you are the best that God created.  Let those who laugh at this family get shocked in future. Let them stand hands akimbo and remain wordless; you children are the ones to get me out of these shame. Never joke with life because you all see what I go through to make you children stay in school and have something to eat as well. I want a good future for all my children. Raymond, I want you to work harder because your siblings look upon you. What you do is what they emulate. I would be glad to see big houses in my compound; I would like to see very successful people in the society. Promise me that my sweat is not going to waste! Promise me my son, promise, I trust you.

Surely the golden father worked out his level best. No one in the family had missed the doorstep of the class. His sweat was not towards filling his stomach. The stomach by the way is the most stubborn part of the body. This is because; it has to be fed thrice a day and on a daily basis. Those people who are unable to feed them term themselves as poor. Even if one would vow not to supply food to the stomach, normally, it’s not the stomach itself affected much, but the whole body. That’s when one gets thin and thinner like the rope, the head gets big and the eyes protrude out like a lobe. This reminds me what my preacher Apostle Moses told me, that the body is so demanding, it needs a lot that sometimes you must stop feeding so that the inner being is also fed to satisfaction, the inner person who needs the spiritual food for maturity. According to him people feed the outer body so much that they forget feeding the inner one.

Tilling people’s shambas, pruning peoples’ flower beds, watering and feeding peoples’ animals was what Mr Wamuyu would do; all this in a bid to get the family going and sustained. His hard work would not be termed as that of ants but maybe of any other hardworking creature yet to be discovered.

Mr Wamuyu, a short and brown man with a compact body was a man with standards set so high that no one else could meet. These traits would also be portrayed in the generations to come after him. Surprisingly, despite the fact that he never attended school at any point of his life, he was taught reading and writing by friends, those friends who had gotten the privilege of getting to school. They taught him writing from there Simbas. This knowledge given to him by the friends would later be used in drafting love letters to his girl then wife to be.

On the other hand, Mrs Wamuyu was a woman of her own ways. They met at a point that only God would know. Mummy was loud and yet dad was cool and quiet. They had distinct characters like the heavens and the earth. However, normally people with divergent characters make a good marriage - an extrovert marrying and introvert, the silent marrying the talkative. For instance if the loud married the loud the house would turn into a factory and if the silent married the silent, the house would remain like a kitten’s cube,  nobody talks to each other, rather a grave, that the smell speaks louder.

They met at a very decisive point of their lives. It even came to a point when parents’ love children in different measures. The two would not want to show it but it was vividly visible. I was obviously Daddy’s boy and my last born was mummy’s boy. However, they loved us equally. Each child was given equal treatment and none felt discriminated by either of the parents. When it came to mama giving out what she had kept for her children or bought for them, she distributed it without favour but according to one’s level of industry.

At times mum would get to the kitchen and call out for something like, “can somebody bring me a spoon please!” or “can somebody bring me a sufuria please.” Mostly, out of the three children in the house, nobody would voluntarily get her what she had requested for. Whoever decided to willingly work would come out of the kitchen smiling with something in her other hand; maybe, a fruit or anything precious for children. When the rest of the children lamented they were told “Omwana Umtumwa ariza Ivyivisu’ A Luhya saying that is used to mean that an industrious child eats what is hidden.

 

                                                                     PART III

 

“Hey, come on...!”

“You know the time; you know what you should be doing right now.”

“It’s on a Sunday, I need everybody in church.” she declared.

“Mike, ensure everybody goes to church, and ensure you don’t leave Brian behind please.”

“But mum .....”  I would murmur

“But what Brian ....... Just do like I said” she firmly.

Brian did not like going to church that much, maybe because of peer pressure or he didn’t see why people would spend the whole day praising and worshipping an unseen being. However, the fear instilled in him by our parents, made him get the right place when need arose. He was taught to fear, fear for all the things considered worth, the aged, the spiritual and earthly father. He had little knowledge of who God is and that’s why all the questions he asked would be listened to by only dad and mum. So sophisticated they were, that you were required to remain careful when answering.

 “Aaargh! Mike, please stop it, I’ll tell dad!” Brian Lamented

“Tell dad? I thought you just heard what mum said?”

“Yes, I did, but she didn’t say that you should start harassing me that way either!”

“Do you really know what harassing is little brat?” Mike loughs sarcastically.

“This is it, not unless you didn’t go to school!” Brian says it spreading his hands.

“I wonder what kind of Language Mr Manyanga teaches you Brian!” Parting Brian’s thighs. “Or you could be among the backbenchers who escort other pupils…!”

Such kind of wrangles can never lack in a family of young boys. They must brush shoulders to see who is stiffer and tougher. However, as they did that they took caution not to be heard as this was an abomination in the Wamuyu family. The weakest or the one defeated would simply give up. Woe to whoever ended up crying; they would receive another heck of roar that makes ones’ chubby chicks wetted with tears dried within no time. 

Zena would be the first one to rise up because she had a big role to play in church. They were well known as the song birds together with Miriam. They also had to get to church, wipe the seats, get flowers done and ensure the table mats were presentable and well done. Mike and Brian did not love church because they had no big role to play and many a times when they got to church, mummy and daddy were church leaders, so their children were to be nurtured towards the same direction.

 They were made to either read the bible, make a presentation of a song or a memory verse, which they did not like or rather found it boring. All the claps , all the applauds, all the ululations were useless, for mike and Brian , it was just a way of appreciating them because they were young , however , everybody knew what was being planted in the lives of the young ones.

Every time towards Saturday evening every day, I would feign sickness. However, these were the devil games that didn't work at all with dad and mum. The church was a must go activity/program. Looking at how most of the friends would spend their Sundays with their friends, others would spend the day watching, while others playing their favourite games. This earned us names such as, church mice, church rats, nuns and monks etc. Church going was such a boring moment in a week, a day when you would spent listening to people giving praises to God and others making prayer requests. Long prayers that do not easily came to an end.

            “Praise God, Praise God once more. I am grateful for what he has done for me. He has given me free air to breath, if it were son of man, he would have always requested for payments, but because He is God; I live for free....”

            “Praise God, Praise God once more, I thank God for the far he has brought me. I pray He continues being the ruler, protector and the provider of my life. I have a prayer request; please pray with my family over the planned journey to Nairobi. We would like to visit Baba Mitoko and we pray that God gives us journey mercies and that we find him safe and healthy. We also pray that God fills all the potholes on the road so that we can travel safely and come back safely.

And yet another,

            - Praise God church, I’m not afraid to stand and praise the Lord who gives me my daily life. He protects me and guards me for free......

Brian and mike still sat listening to such? The sermon had not yet even began and yet it should take like an hour and the preacher of the day can even take up to two hours depending on what he wants to teach. This made it a day like hell to me and my siblings.

At this time, I found myself thinking of a book I once read, “The Game Changer.” I was thinking of this group of monkeys who were reacting differently towards the same situation. One group at the top of a tree plucking fruits and the other group down the tree. The group of monkeys down the tree was looking up to the one on top of the tree to be supplied with fruits. However, the sun was shining directly on their faces, thus they were forced to open their mouths and teeth wide open, like they were smiling. The monkey at the top of the tree looked at the ones expecting from them, they were smiling at them. They wondered why these monkey, would smile at them. They therefore developed a feeling that, those monkeys had something good rather better than them.

The monkeys down the tree are expecting for providence from the ones at the top. They expect to be supplied with fruits, however, the ones to supply look at the ones to be supplied for and think they are smiling; they are forced to get down the tree so that they can also smile.

This book “The Game Changer” was all about perspective. It all depends on our perspective towards some things. In this case we can relate the monkeys to the people. The poor look upon the rich for providence, however due to the harsh life experiences, they are forced to smile and not hide their teeth. The rich on the other hand look at the poor and think like they are smiling, they therefore wish they were also poor, so that they would smile. In real life, the poor are surrounded by a million problems that make them smile. The rich have a million people smiling at them and perspective makes a difference.

                                    “Amen”

This is the only word I heard from the main speaker. And it was the last word I had been piled with thoughts of my own. People started getting out, sharing the word of grace. The music started playing even louder and louder.

Life has never been fair to people. People end up lamenting about what the world has put them through. Sometimes you even look at people who are able but don’t think of others like God made the biggest blander. Have you ever wondered why those who don't have anything are normally very generous and would help everyone who comes to them for help? When those who have the ability to help do not even care? Even in school, have you ever seen a student who is not that clever being very kind, willing to help people solve Mathematical problems that even they do not know, when those who know them can’t help? In the long run, as iron sharpens iron, man sharpens man. When the candle lights the other, its light is not reduced, rather, they both join hands to supply enough light that is able to illuminate the room fully.

Have you ever wondered why you can help push somebody’s vehicle stuck in the mad, and get satisfied by the thank you, but the owner of the vehicle cannot offer you a lift on a ‘thank you?’ Life gives the clever a chance not to pay school fees because of poverty, but gives the dump the ability to clear all the school fees plus even the surplus-on-time?

All these things were running down my mind as I was seated in front of our hut. Thinking and meditating about our life as a family. Poverty was walking physically and any stranger would see it rather than smelling it. Every time I would look at the hut, tears would roll down my cheeks. The hut was thatched with elephant grass. This grass had been feed on by termites and large volumes of soil fixed in between the grasses. Anytime it would rain, the house would be filled with water as the soils fell into the dishes. To us, life sounded meaningless. It was like a gas cylinder filed with a lot of gas, but the gas wasn’t supporting life at all, the gas cannot give hope to any living thing. Just gas!

Not that anybody is to blame for the poverty because my parents had given themselves roles. Mum was to feed the family as daddy was to look for school fees, cloths among others. How did mum look for food? She burnt charcoal, packed it into sacks and carried them on the head or even on the back to, Kiaki, the nearest market. I was a good number kilometres away. It was in the countryside, so obviously, there were no roads, there was no vehicle, and the land is hilly.

Zena and Miriam would help her carry the charcoal to the market each one of them carrying at least a bag. The three were to eat nothing on the way since all the money was to be used for supper. Thank God for after they were done, they would come back home with fish and some flour for supper.

On the other hand Daddy was to go and look for hard jobs on daily basis. The money he got would be collected and later used in payment of school fees. Sometimes the money would not even be enough to pay the fee it was intended for due to the day to day problems; maybe one of the children is sick. By this time, Zena was in form three and she had struggled so much, Miriam was in form two, in the same school. Each and every time the two would spend most of the time at home due to lack of school fees. At times they even thought of dropping out of school but Mr Wamuyu was adamant that they must learn. As much as they would spend most of the time, even a month at home, he didn't care much as long as they cleared school and got papers.

“My dear children, nowadays you can never qualify for a house girl job without papers. You cannot do anything without any papers....” those are the pieces of advice he would give. “Unless, you want to get out there and become mothers and look for husbands, remember, that never happens here in my house. I am after a good future for all my children. Even though the grades on your papers could be bad, I am looking at the future. The way things are even house helps will be required to have certificates for employment. Just struggle and fight for your ways out. It is never simple, but with determination you can make it. I want all of you to emulate who we are and live it”.

Zena’s persistence was unfailing; she went on and was now knocking the fourth form’s door. Despite all these, the daily challenges had never given her a rest. She would stay at home for months and on return, she seats for exams and beats the rest. This raised eyebrows in the staffroom and made the teachers wonder what kind of student she was.

Her stay at home had just become abnormal and this time round the teachers were wondering whether she would come back. They even discussed her and talked about her superb performance.

            “Zena is such a bright girl ....!” They said.

            “I think the father is to blame for all these. This girl was a national school material somewhere ...”

            “You’re wrong Mr Wambani” retorted Mrs Cleopa.

            “It’s very wrong blaming that old man because the effort he is putting into that girl’s education is beyond doubt. He has worked effortlessly to keep the girl and the rest of the children in school in school.” she stressed.

            “You are right Mrs Cleopa; Mr Wamuyu has really worked his ways out to ensure that, his children get at least the most basic education. This is very essential for every kid in Kenya” Muttered Mr Wang’ombe.

            “I think poverty is to blame” he concluded.

For sure, this was the real menace in the whole country not even for Mr Wamuyu’s family. The world struggles to improve infrastructure; roads, rails and hospitals, but forgets creating jobs for the people. People cannot go to good hospitals without money, they cannot go to roads and rails with empty stomachs. A hungry man is a senseless man.

Each and every day, people in the village of Mamboleo woke up, they woke up to try their luck under the sun, to try what they felt could bring them bread. The world is never fair and has never been. It gives you one thing and denies you the other. People have got money but they lack happiness, you desire to have good food. Thank God you have the health, the appetite to eat the little you get. There’re people who have plenty of food but unable to eat them because of health disorders. Thank God for you desire to drive. People desire to make a simple move on their own limps. Always have a reason to thank God.

What human beings need is to change their view of life. It is my obligation and yours too to change. Nowadays, the truth of the matter is, if you don't change the world will change further and you will remain at the same place, staggering.

For instance, the transformation of the world from analogue to digital, those who decided to go digital have Facebook pages and accounts, Twitter, Instagram and many more. People bought smart phones, digital television and other electronics and have embraced the digital lifestyle and era. However, those who did not go digital (who did not embrace change) are termed to use analogue they will remain there with cellular phones, analogue, appliances and thus live an analogue lifestyle. Those who remain behind will keep relying on the ones who change for information and help. The funny thing about this is, these people have never been the majority. They always are the minority. No change....! No change....! I refrain; no change can come, beg people to change. It only comes like a wind, picks the light chaff. It can pick while the heavy particles remains.

The fact that Zena had stayed at home for so long raised eyebrows and many concerns from the teachers and especially the deputy head teacher Mrs Cargo who decided enough was enough. She looked for a way of helping out it if could mean helping out. She called Zena to her house the next evening and conversed about these. She did not live in the school compound and her home and ours were like two or three kilometres apart, a walking distance for a poor man’s daughters.

Zena’s invitation to Mrs Cargo’s home was this bit of worry from not only the household but also to her. Despite the fact that Mrs Cargo had clarified the reasons for having her, that they were to have a discussion about her education, we feared for our only lovely elder sister. Is it that Mrs Cargo wanted to employ her as a house help? Is it that she wanted to marry her off as was the trend in the society? Dad was against this by all means. Is it that Mrs Cargo wanted to help pay her school fees? Despite all their mixed reactions, Mr Wamuyu decided to let her daughter go get what the hell was out there.

            “Ahem!” she cleared her throat, as she looked directly into Zena’s eyes.

            “Good evening my dear girl.”

            Good evening too Mrs Cargo ...!” Zena replied with a heck of worry and hesitance, filled with fear.

Fear for not having made mistakes, or failing exams but that fear instilled into her by the family and more so by the parents. Everyone in Mr and Mrs Wamuyu’s house had been instilled with extra ordinary discipline and the fear for anybody above their age. This created a name for the family that later in life of marriage every homestead wished to get my sister’s hand in marriage. Men and women got into our house like flies; all of them trying to convince our parents to have them have their daughter’s hand in marriage with their sons.

          “I have called you here to discuss your education. It’s been a month since you got to class...!” said Mrs Cargo.

            “Mmmhhh....!” “Please tell me, what’s happening?” She inquired.

            “It’s true.” Zena picked her lines from the mouth like she was learning to talk.

            “I have ... just decide to ... to ... uhm...! Mmhh! I have just decided to ....!”

            “To do what Zena, please speak up and don’t be afraid.” she said.

            “Remember, I keep telling you that I’m just like a mother to you. Forget about me being your teacher, Oh! Yes a teacher is also a parent.

            “Okay thanks Mrs Cargo.” Zena replied with a smile on her face

            “I meant I have just decided to quit school!” she proceeded.

This was very unimaginable for Mrs Cargo; she did not expect to hear these from Zena. However, she did not just want to show it. She knew that Zena had really tried. If it were somebody else, they would have quitted long ago.

           “But why my dear…?” Mrs Cargo inquired after a long silence that had covered the room.          

“My daddy is no longer capable of paying school fees…” Zena mumbled with a face covered with tears.

         “Ooh! I’m sorry about that but that’s not the right decision you should have made.” she said looking straight into Zena’s eyes

            “Anyway we can't blame him because he has really struggled. But I want you back in school.”

Zena hesitated and was short of words. She didn’t know what to say. She shuffled her feet on the ground and scrubbed her fingers. Her nose was filled with a kind of wetness that is indescribable. She seemed like had a point to pass across but didn’t know how. Her head was rotating like the galaxy, eyes sparkling like of a lizard.

            “Please open up to me and speak up,” Mrs Cargo said.

            “I am a human being like you and won’t eat you up” she added.

            “Thank you so much Mrs Cargo for your concern. However I am not willing to come back because I am tired of embarrassments, I don’t have to keep coming and going out of school in a span of days. The days I spend in school are less than the days I spend at home.....

 The two discussed until Zena agreed to do like Madam wanted. The deputy offered to buy her the personal essentials, books and told her to report in school early morning the following day together with the father. Zena had no option but to do this.

 Back at home, Zena looked at the uniforms that had already turned formless, a pair of shoes she had been given by mummy. The shoes were initially white and after they had been applied on a black polish, they turned into black school shoes. No one could notice that unless observed keenly, but then who has time for that? Her school uniform was a grey skirt and a white blouse. Her skirt was not that grey a mutumba skirt mummy had bought her after a big sale of charcoal. The white blouse was not just that perfect, but very perfect maybe for the Zena’s type of girls.

 Tip...top...Tip...top the following day early morning. Wamuyu in front and Zena at the back, headed towards the school. On arrival, they got Mr Temba together with the deputy Mrs Cargo... They had talks in the office and officially Mr Wamuyu became the Tiandeti High School casual labourer. His main duties were to carry out the manual labour on the farm. This included pruning the flowers, getting student’s maize ground into flour for ugali and porridge, maintaining the garden and watering animals. In short he was the general purpose handyman.

 After working under the hot unsympathetic sun, all his salary was directed to his children’s school fees. This was very difficult and very hard especially for somebody like Wamuyu who had developed back deformities. However it got him at a position he could not resist as long as the education of the daughter was concerned. This would benefit not only Zena but also Miriam who joined the same school and benefited from the Cargo plan. 

 Challenges are common to every human living under the sun, but more often we change the way we look at the things that gives us stress in life, the very things that have been stressful begin to change. Many a times, people find it hard coping up and undergoing their stress because, they look for ways of escaping the very things that stress them. It is normally very wise facing the things that trouble you than running away from them.

 For one to make it in life, they have to speed up, put up a bright game to push boundaries, for instance, the lion is the most feared animal in the jungle, but for that lion to maintain that status, it has to eat to get strength to roar and to frighten others. For it to eat there is a condition, the condition is, it has to wake up every morning and run as fast as possible, probably faster than the prey. However, the prey, for this case the gazelle, also knows that somebody (the lion) is looking for it for food, hahaha..... This is very interesting. For that case, it has to wake up earlier, and run faster than the enemy. This remains that the enemy (the lion) has to wake up earlier and run faster to maintain her status.

 I know being a worker in a high school earned the golden father so many names. And this is why, during my high school life, I was the champion in nicknaming the school workers and teachers. Mr Wamuyu quitted from the job two years later after Zena and Miriam were done with their schooling.

 

                                         CHAPTER TWO

                                                              

                                                               PART 1

“If I was...!” “Mmmhh...!” “If I was .....!” Seated in the door at the door steps; my mind was miles away, wondering in planets far away; I was swimming in a sea of day dreams. I was dead asleep that I even couldn’t hear anybody talking close to me, or even an aeroplane passing in the air. So many things were running down my minds, so many questions that I didn’t know whom to approach for answers. What is this that brings wealth? Is it fate or luck or favours? How come some people get richer while others get poorer? Are the rich born rich and the poor born poor?

           This is the point when I recall what my father had kept telling me, that the world breaks each one of us apart, but some people become strong at the broken places and that where they get their fate. As a Wiseman, he kept teaching me something; day by day, he added some sense into my thick head.

 He taught me to first learn who I was, secondly accept who I was, thirdly, appreciate who I was and lastly but not least try and make myself what I wanted to be.

 As a matter of fact, the poverty that was perching physically in the Wamuyu homestead was the first thing I was to accept. Accept its existence, and know how I should fight my way out. We had animals on our farm, not our own but two cows which belonged to a family friend. We took care of the animals, utilized the milk from them and the manure but the calves were given to the owner of the cow. These two beautiful zebu cows produced milk that could serve the family and nothing remained for sale. These animals Riziki and Sumbua were just too boring that however much you fed them, they couldn’t fatten up, neither did they show any sign of satisfactory. Many a times we blamed this feeding habits, they were not grazers. They behaved like browsers.

 Riziki and Sumbua were so stubborn that Mike couldn’t want to feed them, unless forced. Home was a den of hard jobs that could compel one into street life. Doing something out of will is normally very good; industrialists and economists like Eric Smith said forced labour is less productive than free labour.

 As a young man, of eighteen years and above, I had a very big role to play, a role any other African child should play; this is especially after circumcision; proving my manhood. This is ensuring that I start getting little respect after the other. This was to come from the little things you do in the compound like pruning the flower bed, watering the animals, digging the biggest piece of land and helping the family financially. An African child raised in the rural life should go to out and work to get his own money for upkeep.

 I was meant to buy my own clothes, shoes, and dress myself up. Leave alone the nowadays trend where parents dress the children till marriage; infact, I can’t recall the last time my dad bought me linen. Maybe mummy, the latest she bought was a buggy trouser from a local ‘mutumba’ market, something I didn’t even like because it was obviously old fashion. However, I had to put it on that way whichever the case. From there I was to put up my personal struggle.

 I obviously knew and understood that nothing comes easily, even if you are to pray to God for providence, you must also struggle, to show him how much you need it. My parents were old fashioned, they wanted me shaved using a pair of scissors, dressed in bell bottoms and baggy shirts. Which ladies, ‘selfie’ class ladies would go for such a gentleman? If you were a hunter, then a hunter hunting in a desert of no hope’ located in no man’s land.

 Casual labour was going to be my only way out of this quark mire. After sitting for form four exams and not having made it directly to university, what else was I to do? I need to kill them, make them die for me, by the hot colognes, the sassy hair styles, the sassy outfits and the nicely marched shoes. Life got even harder. Everything was not that same any more. Life was just contradicting the thinking in my head.

 As a young man living to meet the worldly expectations become hard, at times, you would love to live according to what is in your head, what was instilled in it. However, the world always has its own ways of pushing one towards where it wants. Every human being under the sun has got their own driving force, the force that pushes ideas into their heads, the inborn forces. However, the youths ought to be driven by what they are told by the people they think are their role models. At this stage, parents have a big role to help the kids choose good role models and good mentors. They also have to be directed on what to see. Youths have a tendency of seeing and having the zeal of testing or rather tries a TV advertisement of a man who after drinking gets energized and smart in all they do.

 While at my thinking point at the door steps; I’m drawn into thoughts of how this day was; a very tragic day, a day of trial and error. It was this dark day, that I don't love thinking of.

 

                                                         PART II

 It is dark, my legs are trembling like leaves in the summer season and my eyes are struggling to see, but whatever they are seeing could be right or not. Its beyond my normal hours, normally I’m asleep by this time. My friends Rua and Liz are dragging me by my arms. I’ve just turned abnormally talkative and what I speak is just useless. I still want to enjoy myself but Rua and Liz are busy dragging me home. I stage a resistance that is useless, it does not yield anything, I have no energy to get out of their determined arms.

 One of my fears is obviously getting to the house, how should I explain everything to them? How should I begin? How should I even proceed and how should I end till I convince them that I’m not drunk when I cannot even walk? This is just one of the big reasons why I didn’t want to be taken home, apart from the fact that I still wanted to have fun, find some girl to touch, make up and finally fix the wax into place again. I was to get the beautiful ones down and dance with them. Apart from these, I had also invited my friends, good friend of mine, how would I have to leave the party that early?  I mean I felt like I had not done what had brought me to the party. If I had that chance to explain all these to Rua and Liz, I could do it and infact do it better. Unfortunately, they did not give me that chance to speak. Infact, when I spoke none of my words was clear. Maybe they could have listened to me and given me the chance to go on with the party.

 Rua and Liz saw all I was doing in the party. They did not like it; it was naive and ill mannered. I come from a family that was highly respected in the community, a family that had strong religious bonds. All that I was doing was ruining their status. I myself was also known for being a good guy, brought up with good morals and taught the good ways of life; I was degrading and ruining my dignity. As a hype-man, I wanted to get the mike; I wanted to damage the veins and speed up the blood flow of all the people in the party by hyping them up. But then how could I have done all these when I wasn’t able to stand on my limbs. Rua and Liz were not wrong.

 Questions were going to lack answers after Rua and Liz got me to the house. Mrs Wamuyu received me and allowed me to sleep; the rest was to happen the following day. She looked at me and never even said a word.

             “Every success story has a rough beginning all the good things need patience. You can’t push the world or rather life the way you want.... my sons.”

Mr Wamuyu had called for a family meeting. This just happened during the breakfast meal and every family member was at the table including mummy, He did not have a specific meeting time but that particular time that everyone was at the table and especially when there is an issue of concern he needs to address. That’s the golden time for the golden faster.

            “My son’s” he proceeded.

            “All I want from you is a life; a life that can be emulated, that life that people can refer their sons and daughters to. I have always prayed that you get what I never got and eat what I never ate and walk where I never walked.”  Mr Wamuyu went on to say.

“I have always had confidence in all of you. Mike told me that he wants to be a rapper, that’s what I want. I can’t stop you from following your dreams. Brian said that he wants to be a deejay and Rayzo wants to be a presenter. I see all of you have dreams and very great dreams. However all this never come easily, I don't want to fall into that trap of telling you to be what I think you should be, maybe, lawyers, doctors and so on.

 If I loved being a lawyer then why didn’t I become one? If a loved being a doctor, then why didn’t I become one? You guys love being what you want to be, I will allow you to be, then work for them.

During all these time, everybody was watching speechlessly; the house kept silence, no sound could be heard. Even the intestinal movements would now prevail. After having a sip of tea, he proceeded on.

            “I want you to get good wives, good families and good jobs. I want you to dress me up, like you can all see, I have never dressed like a man of dignity (This is what always made me shade my tears easily). Getting women to marry is never a big deal, but getting that good wife if you are not a hard worker. Women look at your effort; good women don't look at what you have in the present, but in the future. Women can simply despise you, not because you don’t have a good vehicle, but because you don’t have good visions.”

 All this things Dad was saying were taking me by surprise; I thought I must have money to marry a good and beautiful woman. That’s not the case? It means women can marry a poor man in the present but a rich man in the future?

            And yet again after another sip, he proceeded.

            “I’m only telling you all these things as your father; you can never get them elsewhere. As you choose women to marry do not choose because of their skin colour. Do not choose their body configurations; neither should you dwell on tribal lines or property. Choose a wealthy woman upstairs; a woman who can build you and model you into a perfect person. Men can never multitask, but women can, men think once and of the present only, but women think of the present and the future. If by any chance you get a poor woman upstairs, your home will remain like mine forever. My lineage will remain as it is forever. I have always told you to work and embarrass those who thought we cannot. Make your mother the proudest woman on the earth. Let her feel that her womb was that fertile.” “Children, I don't want to talk about what just happened, I think Raymond learned a lesson. You can now see how embarrassed you were, you can now see how you lowered your dignity instead of building a vast state of respect and honour; you simply attracted disrespect to yourself. Never should that be repeated again”.

 All this things the old man spoke were to stick in everybody’s mind that even when somebody made a mistake in the house, nobody spoke, Mummy who had the father speak just gave you a hard look that could make you tremble like a tree a midst a cracking ground. Dad on the other hand gave you a look that could sent you on your knees and beg for forgiveness. Even in their absence, in case you went astray, you remembered what was said and turned away from it like a baby who has just touched a hot glaze.

 That actually teaches me a lot; that as a parent, the cane is not the best alternative for children, speaking to the children sticks in their heads to eternity. Beating them up sometimes makes them cane proof. After that pain you instilled in them is over, they forget why they were beaten. I personally can’t recall the last time Mr Wamuyu punished me.

 Infact he used to tell us that, he grew under beating, and has never thought of beating up his children. The only person who could beat us was mummy.

 If every parent spared sometime to talk to their children, then we wouldn’t be having cases of early pregnancy which are too rampant that the administration of the day plans to get bills on the floor of the house and reduce the age of adult sex legality from eighteen years to sixteen years. What does this mean? ‘If you cannot beat them join them Philosophy has worn the day! That we are unable to stop under age sex, fornication, that we would rather join them and allow them? That we as parents cannot seat them down and stop them?

 It was customary that, one could not have intimacy without marriage, thus men could only marry whole women. They were to be assisted in looking for a woman who has kept herself pure. Those were the days, days when girls knew how to put their legs together. Days when, ladies knew how to protect their chests from touch by every Tom, Dick and Hurry, days when the society joined hands as a whole to bring up a good generation. Those are the days when a girl’s marriage was very important in the society and that every household knew the community that produced the best women. That’s the community that everyone ran to for wives thus the behaviours of a single girl could either ruin the name of the whole community or lift it higher the sky.  It came to a point that, this was reduced, that you can have sex at eighteen years. As long as you have attained the age, you can have a partner; you can now love and be loved. Surprisingly, it is lowering to sixteen years. Can someone please tell me where we are headed to? I mean, if this is agreed on, a Sixteen years old child, a form two? That a sixteen year old toddler can have intimacy and it’s still allowed by the law? The society needs more ‘Wamuyu Reborn.’

 

                                                               PART III

 So rotten that what was illegal has been legalized, that what was shameful is no more? Maybe these are signs of the end times as it was revealed in Jesus revelation. Human being just suddenly turned into animals. They are no longer dressing up, they are dressing down instead, they are not living a life, they are living life. There is an issue that just ran down my mind and my heartfelt a deep feeling of sorrow. I could no longer hold my tears back as I watched these happen. I was actually meant to get to the house a bit early because I had left my younger brother in the house all alone the whole day. I was also to rush to the house as fast as possible because I was having a cold, besides that, I was also very tired after a long day of tedious staff I had done at work. It was getting too late; the weather was also too cold.

 I was still waiting for a vehicle at the stage while the group of young people was waiting for a taxi towards town. It was this group of young people of around twenty to thirty years of age. Maybe the eldest could be around twenty seven or there about. To be honest I didn’t bother about looking at how many they were because my brain was so much captivated on what they were doing. All I saw is, they were around eight, four ladies and the rest were gentlemen.

 It took me by surprise to see what was happening as it was beyond my personal imagination. Of course I thought they had paired up. Just paired up normally, like every man with his handbag - a woman; every woman with her lad-a man. That’s what should be, that’s what is written down. Even scripted, that, ‘God saw that man was lonely and he gave him a woman, a companion’. Why should these have happened that these women were seeking companion from their fellow women? Holding each other and exchanging saliva, going against the odds of life and legalizing the illegal?

 I sat down to watch these two women who just interested me so much. It was like watching a late night movie. One of them was just too erotic that she kept walking her hands around the other one’s body. It got cold and colder, however the more cold it became, the more my anxiety arose. I just wished to have a word with them, I just needed to hear how they talk, I just needed to see how they react towards men.

 These just happened coincidentally after I had just seen a similar case, the same day at my job place. I work in a restaurant, my service area is far off from the customer area and what the customers do at the tables is normally none of our business. Ours is normally to periodically pay a visit to the customer area clear the tables wipe them and collect the falloffs. This time round, during one of my rounds, I met the unexpected. I found these two ladies making out each other; they were so much carried away that the world was moving in the opposite direction for them.

 When I got close to them they behaved like nothing had happened, they got back to business and looked at me with dry eyes. I felt I should just converse with them. When I said hi to them, only one of them answered back. I told them that I’m seeing they are having some nice time and asked if I could join them. However, the one who never greeted back was the first to dismiss me. She was like NO! We don’t need your company, we are fine this way. The other one spoke to me in a more polite tone! “No, thank you, next time you’ll join us! They stood up and left as the other naughty girl licked her fingers like a fugitive.

 Having seen all these and again coming to encounter it once again, it drove me into a world of curiosity. It drove me into a world of what if? Why? How? My mind could not rest unless I got the satisfying answers to these questions. As I kept asking myself questions, their taxi arrived and they took off. This was just unimaginable; I was not going to allow these to happen. I was going to follow them to all the places they were to go as long as they gave me the answers; nothing else.

 I picked a motorcycle at the same stage and decided to follow their vehicle. The motorcyclist was to cycle the bike to their speed; he was to keep a little distance so that they could not suspect anything. We were to follow the taxi to where it was heading. The weather was very cold, plus on a motorcycle. However my determination could not make me feel the cold. My body grew cold and colder, I started having a migraine, some thin mucus started getting out of the nose, my eyes were filled with tears and my hands became frozen. We went through the traffic, the dark road, the lighted roads, streets and highways. In a short while, we arrived on the streets of Nairobi. This Nairobi city has so many things happening in it. Rotten and dark things that one would not like to hear about. The cold was too cold that my helmet had even turned snowy. I’m sure if they too were kin, they could be wondering why a motorcycle was following them from a distance and they finally got to the same destination.

 It was now eleven pm, nearly getting to midnight; the venue was the club Venus, the club where only such people identified themselves from. My presence at that place either meant that I’m looking for some guy or I’m there to be identified by some guy. These sounded very crooked to me; Very tasteless. I finally identified the counter. The ladies were seating on and sat next to it.

 I requested for a bottle of soft drink, a viceroy and a bottle of soda. I placed both of them in two different glasses. I requested for roast Mbuzi meat. All these things I was ordering made me feel pained, how I was going to waste my money, the money I am brushing off from my little salary. I was going to leave my account bankrupt. However, these did not mean a lot to me as long as I got what I wanted.

 I started looking for ways of attracting their attention. However, they seemed not even bothered about my presence. Normal girls, according to me would have turned several times to look at me, what I was having and what kind of drink I take. These two women did not even once. My presence was just none of their business, you would be meant to ask why? Are not like what they want? Don’t I have all it takes to get them? It’s true they are very beautiful with make up well done, nice hairstyles, but, why would they choose such a life? I was so much disturbed that I decided to stand up and talk to them. After all I was not there to drink, neither do I drink. I just wanted their attention.

            “Hi ladies,” I said.

            “They were so reluctant to answer back.”

            “Hi” They finally answered.

            “How are you guys, doing?

            “Good and you”

            “I’m doing well too, thanks” I answered.

Thank God they gave me this golden chance to turn out their minds and show them that I am a good person and that there is no cause for alarm. .

            “I am sorry for having disrupted your talk!” I excused myself.

            “No, no problem, its fine” They said.

 They both looked at each other with surprised eyes as I sat at their table, leaving mine with all I had bought. I am sure they were like: “Gosh! What the hell? Can’t we just leave this table and get another one?”

 I twisted my tongue and produced the best of my words. I gave the best of what my courage could allow. I showed the excellent personality in me. I made them willing to have me at their counter. We made a short introduction and everybody was like.

 

            “I am Basebah, this is my girlfriend.”

            “I am Rosella, this is my girlfriend?”

            “Girlfriend?” I asked with some disbelief, with a face full of worries.

            “Yea. Girlfriend. Why are you mesmerized?” They inquired.

            “No I’m fine” I answered feigning to be fine and comfortable. However they still realized that I wasn’t.”

            “You know you guys are so funny” she felt so open to me and talked like we had met many days ago. Her girlfriend Rosella said very little, she only concentrated on getting a sip from the bottle.

 

                                                      PART IV

 “I just don't want to hide anything from you, having decided to come all the way following us to these place means you want the truth. The truth is here. ‘The naked truth’ I and Rosella are in love. We love each other so much that it means a lot being together. I know you could be asking yourself how those should happen, and what made me to this. I personally know why we should stay together. I’m not good, I don’t believe in being good. Being straight or not is my choice and nobody else’s’. 

 Many lesbian women become lesbian due to several reasons. Some of them are because... Ok it’s divided into two; environmental factors and Biological factors. Environmental factors are like the upbringing by the parents. If the children are brought up in a reckless manner they tend to hate the gender of parent who mishandled them. For instance if a girl child was simply mistreated by her dad, they tend to hate the male gender for the rest of their lives. Child molestation by the parents, an absent mother or affectionate father is the cause. If the father frequently harasses the wife in front of the children, tentatively the girl child would grow to hate fathers. For instance how would you feel if your mother was stronger than your father, and decided to be mistreating and harassing your dad in front of you? Then to worsen the situation, she leaves and you are left helpless. Chances of you hating mothers are high, true or false?”

 All these things Basy was uttering got into my ears and none of them left at all. On saying this, she reminded me of a friend of mine, Kimberly, she has always sworn never to fall in love again. She promised never to have a man in her life at all. This is after she had been severely heartbroken by her former boyfriend. She had gotten into a relationship, fell in for the man and never raised her eyebrows to think of other men. She fell in love that she could never think of anything else. It came to pass after some time that Kimberley had been impregnated.

 She was to become a mother, know how to take care of a child. However, this man she thought of, this man who had made her pregnant decided to take responsibility. He denied having ever slept with Kimberly. So saddening, very much paining with how much men have turned into animals. They no longer think. They no longer remember what God told them to do - take care of His creatures, and that he is above woman and should take care of her. Having disappointed Kimberley this much plus the fact that her father had left them while still too young, this was after a divorce with their mother. Their dad never offered to help the kids since it is said that they are the ones who caused divorce in one way or the other.

 The children grew without anybody to hold their hands, nobody to call father. All the iniquities they went through were blamed on the father. Passing nicely, lacking school fees having slept on empty stomachs, all these couldn’t be blamed on the mother whose struggles were vividly visible. For this fact, Kimberley developed an internal hate for men. Though she does not find it hard talking, smiling and laughing with men, but she finds it hard loving them. So hard like nothing else. She is infact contented with the one baby girl she was given maybe by God.

 “So like I was telling you, it’s mythical that lesbians choose to become what they are, some are forced into it by nature, friends, bad company, mistreatment and hurt from former lovers, sexual torture from the opposite sex among others. People tend to ask themselves questions on how we copulate. It’s true we have sexual desires, but what you should know is, loving each other is more than copulation; its way more than sex, it’s all about falling in love physical and emotional attractions, finding somebody you wish to spend your time with, make a home and live life with. I mean, this is scientifically termed to as “sexual orientation.”

 According to psychologists sexual orientation is an enduring emotional, romantic, sexual or flectional attraction that a person feels towards another person. If you can be able to find somebody who loves you back in the measures as you love them, will you not love them back? To me homosexuality is not a choice, I mean, why would anyone choose to be something that could cause them to be scorned by the society, be rejected by the families, face denial and be denied rights and subjected to possible violent hate crimes?

 I was by this time in my own world of thoughts, a world of touch on cheeks, open the mouth wide and stagnate the eyes at one point. My brain was obviously drifted miles away. I have always known that, being all these has something to do with biology, but according to her, no scientific proof has claimed to link any gene with lesbianism. I mean, no man has any gay gene in them. It’s not generic. All that causes all these is the upbringing, the contact between an individual and the society. How we treat our children as parents, especially our children of the opposite sex.

 People have pre-conceived notions about who lesbians are, what they want to be, who they are attracted to. It’s not that lesbians hate men; all they are is, have no time for men in their lives. We can’t give men time to talk to us and try and convince us into falling in love, we believe all the men are the same. Untrustworthy, hurting to them is no big deal. What they forget is, women are human beings. They are weak flesh, once they fall in love; they fall in madly, with their heads and everything. However the men we fall for get to disappoint us many times. In simple terms, we find no interest in our opposite sexes and in fact, when you see us you would think that maybe we are assuming you, we simply have no feelings for men, however much handsome you might be. 

 Let it be known that becoming lesbian is so simple, you can become lesbian by reading the lesbian 0r gay articles on the internet, they tend to popularize it and talk about it as if it's something to be proud of. Some online bloggers and vloggers talk about it and even explain how they find it interesting, they even explain to starters how to and how to make it fancy. Many have even gone as far as recording videos of themselves and putting the videos online on you tube. You can simply become one through bad influence from friends in high school or college. You can also become one after being hurt and developed hate for the opposite gender. However it’s not easy to stop it! And that should be highly noted.”

 What? This is what just got me shedding my tears; this statement alone. It carried me away and could not seize me at all. “However, it’s not easy to stop it!” This statement rang in my head repeatedly. This reoccurred as I recalled how I began my habit. It began like a simple childish game, some small games in the bush. This is when you think no one is seeing you.

 I just started it so simple but I couldn’t help it anymore. It was my game of the day. I recall the first time I did it; vividly fresh in my head. I touched my dick and felt the orgasm; I had never tried sex. I was still whole; I was still fresh and untouched. Let me say, I touched myself the first before anyone else did. This orgasm was so strong that it drove me crazy, having turned myself on, there is nothing else I could do, but keep the fires burning. I went down on my back and did it with my hands, but it did not come so fast... My blood was no more at rest and my brain was already speeded up. Everything on my body could feel the greatness. My heart was pumping faster than the fastest animal in the wilderness. My eyes turned red like of an animal and I was no longer human at all.

 Honestly, nobody taught me, this. It’s just that, my friends kept talking about sex while in our ‘man talk’ groups. This was the discussion of the hour, the day and the week, not forgetting the month and thus the year. They kept talking of how it’s so great. Having tried to find my own ways to get the experience but failed due to the strictness from my parents and the fact that my religious or Sunday school teacher had kept condemning fornication. After successful doing it and gotten the pleasure, pleasure in my hands, the next day I was like why don’t I try it again.

 Sometimes I could use soap, sometimes ‘plastics’ would help so much. My ungodly habit developed and I even started doing it even twice a day or even thrice. I mean I got very deeply addicted and could no more stop it. I became professional that, I even did not require anything to turn me on. My bare hands would still work. All I needed is switch my mind into a world of reality and all would work. Little did I know; that this was addictive.

 I became so much used to it that I couldn't do without it, every time, I could look for my own free time to go do it. I did it in school toilets, in the bathrooms. In my own bedroom, in public toilets anywhere, I felt I needed the pleasure and I could still do it comfortably.

 Even after getting a girlfriend who could satisfy my angry desires at anytime of my need, I still could leave go do it in private. This went on till marriage. It became impossible for me to stop it. As a Christian I felt the guilt. It was fully hypocritical, mixing Godliness with such a kind of uncouth behaviour. I Kept praying that God relieves me from all these. Sometimes I trained myself on how to do without it, but, most of the time I found myself going back to it without realizing.

 Masturbation affected me so much that I developed a short gun. I could no longer satisfy my wife, her desires would no longer be fully met. It was just that much embarrassing. It got me worried that one day she would play on me and seek for pleasure outside marriage because after all I wasn’t satisfying her enough and she is human with normal human weaknesses. That was not the only problem I encountered as with time, I could not hold urine for quite a long time. My breaks loosened up.

 I started experiencing frequent pain on my back. The lower part of the back started aching and barred me from standing for so long, walking long distances and seating too much. That’s the most dreaded thing that was nearly leading to my death. I got onto the wheel chair. Yes, the wheelchair. Despite all these things I had gone through, nobody knew why I experienced such back pains. I never had told anyone what was going to kill me. This was my life secrete. Not even my wife knew about it, I mean what was she going to think about me?

 All the joints on my body loosened up including the joints on my fingers, the toes, the knees and the neck. It was a heck of trouble for me. Though some of these problems have never gotten to an end but the treatment I got helped. I got a professional treatment from a professional doctor from a foreign country and God’s will also took its course so much. I kept fasting and praying that despite the fact that I had sinned against my creator, His will in my life should be done. Even after getting out of my deathbed, I still could not easily let that habit go off me. I still needed to get the help from a rehab; my pastors visited me so much and kept praying with me and only stopped it after a prayer of deliverance that we made. I knelt and prayed that God should set me free from any alters of darkness that had be raised in my life against God’s will and that any agreement entered into with the devil either knowingly or unknowingly should be terminated in Jesus name.

 As I shed, my tears Rosella and Basebah looked at me and wondered what kind of person I was. I have always promised never to tell anybody of what I had gone through, but I too felt my heart open to share. I just found my tongue so easy to utter. My brain was so easy to allow my voice out. After all, they had also trusted me and told me what had happened to them.

 Everybody just had a story, to tell the others; sexually related story. With Rosellah explaining to me how she had been attacked by a gang of men one evening as she came from school. The gang stopped her by the road and harassed her. They started asking her annoying question like, “Have you tried these before young girl?”

                                                                  

                                                                    PART V

 

It was just too hard for Rosella to tell me what had happened to her. However, she had no option, she had heard all I had and trusted me. She knew we were there to build each other in one way or the other. Every time she talked about this, tears rolled down her cheeks helplessly, it was so sad that she’s never wanted to think about it all. I was the second person she was saying these to, after Basebah.

           “It was around seven o’clock in the evening when I was coming from school, I guess it’s now four years since then!” she began.

            “I had stayed late in school for choir practice because we had a music challenge the next day. I walked down the path to my place, through the shimmers and the cold leaves. Everything had gone quiet including the birds. Suddenly, I met a gang, a gang of men. Men I knew, I did not think they could do that to me. I did not imagine. It did not even run down my mind that men are animals and could do anything under the cover of darkness!”

             “How are you young girl?” one of them said.

I thought they were these good guys I just answered them positively. As I passed, the other guy held my hand, they were actually three guys.

 

            “We love you honey!” He said.

            “Love me?” I asked.

            “Yea, we love you, and we need you!”

            “Need me?” Getting worried and nervous.

            “Yea we need you, not today though!” He said these and posed.

            “But..... Now...!” He concluded.

             “I love your perfume, it smells so nice.” Said the other

            “Mark! Martin! Rudi...... I mentioned their names. I guess that was the biggest mistake I made.”

            “Oh I see, she infact knows us by names!” It was Rudi saying these.

            “It shows she too loves us...! Said martin as both of them sarcastically laughed.

In no time, the three were already on me, the two openings downstairs had already been occupied by two men. The third was keeping my body fully touched and kept on heat. They kept exchanging, one after the other, my mouth was held hard that I could not scream.

           “It’s sweet that’s why she’s yelling” they said.

             “Come on baby, get easy.”

The act was one of a kind, I had never experienced such before, and it was like putting a hot nail on a red hot wound. It really pained me that I had kept myself so nice to that age, that all the guys who had tried to come my way turned away with a disappointment. The teachings I had received from the church and from my parents as well had kept me waiting for God’s time. Was that the so called Gods time? That such chaff could find way and penetrate their flesh into my sacred body? Was that now the temple of the Lord? My tears were not going to be dried by something so simple.

 After they were all done, they laid me across the railway line so that the speed train could run over my body and get me dead, so that I could not reveal these. They stood there to ensure that I was not going to scroll and get out and all I was to do is utter my last word to my creator. As much as, I am a sinner, a capital sinner, I have never failed to know that God exists and that he saves His people. He saved me. It’s true the train came, but it never ran over me. It was just coincidentally that, the railway attendants had been notified of an issue on the railway line, they were thus moving along the line to see where the damage was.

 When they got close to where my body was lying, obviously Mark and his group kept some distance. It’s by the grace that the attendance kept me in their vehicles. All my medical care was catered for by the countries railway service provider. Mark and His group were arrested; they served a sentence, a short term sentence because there was no concrete evidence to link them with the case. As usual the world has never been fair, how could the court lack evidence to give the three a life sentence or even suffer hanging in the name of no enough evidence? When I had seen them with my naked eyes? They are now freely roaming the village like forest dogs. From then, I have never liked men. I have never gotten to any rehab, thank God you did. I fear men. However much good they look, I just need them no more. That’s when my heart fell in for a fellow woman.

 Basebah has always been close to me and she gives me the care and company, I have never felt sad since I met her, she puts a smile on my face daily. She is also all I have, she is a pillar to me. We have never copulated since both of us have no interest in sex. We are comfortable with the emotional and psychological sex we give to each other!”

 So touching it was that you couldn't believe there was sin between the truth. It was Rosella’s turn to give her piece of episode, how things were and finally became. Both of us, me and Basy looked deep into her eyes as she gathered all that was in her mind for a breath-taking piece of episode. Opening up her mouth to produce utterances was this hard. I think I started learning what kind of person she was. Her heart was filled with a lot of pain that she could not let it go. This heart was covered by aloud cloud of sorrows and maybe malice against what she termed to as sordid characters.

 Human’s character is usually shaped by the environment, the society surrounding an individual. If one grew up for instance from a society that does not understand the value of life and especially human life, they do not view the colleagues as worth in life, then the product is people who learn how to survive and live like hard cores. Despite the loud music that was heating in the club, despite the large disco lights that were swaying around like lightning, despite the loud screaming from people having fun, for us. It was a deep silence, a grave silence; nobody looked at each other, everybody wondering what to do next. Do we console our dear friend? Should we too break into tears? However, it was only her girlfriend Basebah who knew what to do. At least she understood her, after all they had been friends, good friends, girlfriends for so long, and so she knew what do to console each other in the event of sorrow. Only a peck for her would be enough and maybe a kiss and maybe, lay her on her chest.

 

 

                                                            PART VI

 

             “I’m!” After being wiped all the tears.

            “I was created weak, with a weak heart, a weak flesh that falls in love. Once it falls in four you then it does not allow room for anything else. Not even air...! She said.

             “I loved Melvin so much; I did not know he could one day have to let me down. After all we had promised each other. After the things I had tone for him out of my love for him. Normally I have never known how to divide my love to different people. My heart can only accommodate one lover. My soul can only fall in love for a single partner.

 I met Melvin after I had just parted ways with another guy.  The other guy had heartbroken me in the same way. He showed me so much love and tender care. However, that is before he got what men look for from women. I also trusted him and gave him all he needed, my heart, my time and all my trust. Only to discover then that he was also dating a close friend of mine.

 I simply realized that there could be something wrong happening since, he was not more the same. He had just changed so much. He didn’t give me my time anymore. Having broken my virginity and destroyed my worthiness. Having endured all the pain that came with it, having done all I could to please him and satisfy him. He moved on.

 This really affected me both physically and psychologically. I experience severe headaches from these. My stomach also kept rumbling and aching. I kept crying and did not want to eat. I kept wondering why I had given him all my love; I wondered why he could lie to me and later play on me.

 I then vowed not to fall in love again. From these effects that could only cease after my younger sister was tired with my habit and decided to reveal what had happened to my mother. She is the only one who knew what I was going through. She had promised never to tell it to anybody. However, when she realized that I was too much, crying the whole night, not eating anything, she decided to break her promises. Mine was true love for him, deep from the heart. I was going to cling on him come rain come drought, come summer come winter. My heart was for him and I had given my all to him. I have come to realize that if you love these guys they never love back, but if you don’t, that’s when their love for you increases; I have never known why we cannot give fifty for fifty to each other or even a hundred for a hundred.

 It followed that a psychologist was the way out, Mrs Nuita, a psychologist who was introduced to me by my mother counselled me for about three months. Everything got well I guess but my life took the direction it took.

 Melvin was very special to me because he is the only man who worn my heart again after I had rejected all the men who tried to reach out to me. My promise to my life was going to be kept, but he stole away my heart, he made me trust him so much. I had always prayed that, God gives me one man who is God fearing; one who can treat me with all the respect; one who can understand what kind of person I am, one who could be faithful to me, love me till marriage.

 Funny enough, Melvin was a church boy; a very handsome one and worth to be trusted, according to his pleasant behaviours. He held himself with due respect and not like other scumbags. He promised all men could promise to their women, he talked like any other man could talk, with good loving words, with such an outstanding swag. He did not have anything lucrative and fancy. But his heart displayed love and happiness. He gave me the happiness I needed; he treated me like a queen and respected me as well.

 I closed my limps so tight that he could not access my hotspot. This kept us going. He gave me anything I wanted, laughter, love, care and attention. Melvin, just like any other men, started changing after I had trusted him with my body. He demanded for it and I decided to give it fully to him. I knew I was all his and he was all mine. I did not see the need for holding and restraining myself from making him happy. Maybe, he wasn’t like my first lover. Maybe he was different. I gave him all that is on me; that was created by God, all theft he wanted.

 After several times of these happenings, after everything, after all, after he had relieved himself, that’s when I became sleazy. I became despicable in his eyes. He started handling me in his own ways and manners. That’s when he realized that I was lowlife, slow and less of importance.

 This happened when I was now in college; it affected me so much that I failed the exams that I was taking. I was also got stomach ulcers due to the stress I got from that. He made my brain develop tumours for nothing. He made me loose meaning in life. I know men are men; they have been men and will still be men. I need no other proof, they are all humanizers...!”

 All these time she was speaking, everybody was silent. She talked, although overwhelmed by the tears that were flowing out of her eyes like a river or rather a swamp; she still managed to make her statements. All this time, Basy was there with her handkerchief to wipe her tears.

               “So...! She proceeded on.”

            “I and Basebah met after swearing never to have any man in life. I just found myself getting attached to her; she was always there for me when I was going through all this suffering.

 Both of us were in the same school and people started suspecting that were more than just friends. However, nobody bothered about us because in college, everybody lives their own lives. It's true we love each other. But we were never born this way. It's what the society has put us into. My daddy keeps telling me that, I’m done with schooling and that he now expects that I should get a man to settle with, but these normally hurts me since I know I have no space for men in my life. My parents are always worried because up to this time, I still fear, not even fear but hate for men. I rarely talk to any. I have no time for them in my life.”

 

                                                                     PART VII

 By this time, I was in full state of confusion. My head was going round like the moon on earth. Maybe faster, like a shooting star. If Basebah and Rosella decided to love each other after the discrimination they had undergone, then is the society right to discriminate against them? Shouldn't they be afforded the same rights as heterosexual? All we need to do is, try and find out why they are the way they are and construct them. For the case of Rosella and Basebah, it was too simple, just get them close to me, and teach them that not all men are equal.

 Just teach them and kick off some ignorance out of their minds. Try and prove some points and bring back some sense into their heads. We all need to know that, a simple mistake should never put you into something that is despaired by the society. Some of these habits start like jokes and become addictive; one cannot get out of them that easy.

 We as the members of the society, come on, we have a role to play, let’s first avoid doing things that could create more Rosella’s. Men, only seduce when you mean it. Ladies let’s say I love you when you mean it. I mean I have no time to shed tears, just because my girl or my man just heart broke me.

 We need to reconstruct the society; we need to get back to some point. I think we just lost the way somewhere. I remember one of my church elders Mr Musembi telling me that when you fall down you need to stand up, look to the left, look to the right, see if anybody has seen you, wipe yourself and move on like nothing just happened. Even if one person has seen you, then assume like, these person does not know who you are, where you come from, so why should you be embarrassed? We all should acknowledge, the fact, we have fallen down, come on, let’s stand up faster, wipe ourselves and move like nothing just happened. Let’s get back our boys and girls to the true ways of God. Let’s teach them the word, let’s make them understand the word.

 If Rosella and Basebah knew that God’s time is the best, then they couldn't have given up. That’s “The Naked Truth’ that’s what we need to know. Even as we parted ways with Rosella and her girlfriend Basebah, everybody had shed their tears that night. Everybody had wiped each other’s tears; I think I am the only one who wiped my own tears. But it’s a fact, that we had a fantastic night. They had not done what took them to the clubs, it was even getting to dawn.

 We both stood up and left the club. My drinks remained on my counter untouched. Likewise nobody had taken anything from their counter. Their taxi was already waiting for them outside. I also had to get back to my stage and pick a vehicle to my place. It was still dark and I feared that somebody could attack me. I also did not know whether I was going to get the transport home.

          “You're the first man we have hugged since we started loving ...!” They said.

            “Oh! I’m humbled ...!”

            “Thanks for your company...!”

            “Thank you too Rosella and Basebah for your golden time with me, I have learned a lot.”

            “It’s okay; you need not to thank us at all”

            “Ooh! No, I need to. My plea was fruitful, I know you will receive the favour from God again and hug more men!”

            “Never Ray....  Never!” said Basebah.

            “Ooh! I guess we are going towards the same direction, why don’t you join us in our taxi...!”

            “Sure” I said it like I did not believe it. I knew my road to changing these ladies had just began. I promised myself that these girls were going to change by the mighty help of thy living power.

            “Yea, let’s go” said Basy.

 I refrain, if we don’t need homosexuality then let’s stop doing things that could compel our beloved friends from becoming one. The flesh is wicked; it loves and wants to be loved back. It doesn’t matter where the love is coming from. If I have no parent to love me, if I have no woman to love me, if I have no man to love, I will simply love the closest person who is ready to love me back. That person who is ready to appreciate my person and make me smile, I need to be loved and love back, somebody who can part my back when they feel I deserve a part.

 

 

                              CHAPTER III

 

                                                              Part I

 As an adult, having been taught everything, having experienced all that I could, having seen and heard, all that I could, all that remained was, understanding how to play my cards; how to fix the tricky game and finally come out in a spectacular way. All I knew is, life is a game and it all depends on your style of playing and your ways of playing it.

 Spanning all the way from building a family, a society and thus a nation, all the effort lay in my hands. Whether or not to make a good and strong background for your future life lay in my hands. For me the social media was my closest friend, all daily activities rotated around the social media. Having desired to become a public figure, from the spirit that was instilled in me by my parents that fight for what you want. I knew the hard task that lay in front of me, becoming whom I wanted to become, I always desired to become a presenter, not just any presenter, but one to be reckon. One who could take the airwaves with a storm and get a massive following, one whose content was to be highly valued, loved and widely listened to or viewed by many; one who could change the society with a powerful influence and insights.

 In all these things, all I knew is that I had a talent, non like the other, right away from my high school, to the village to the streets. I only needed a stepping stone or rather, one who could simply hold my hand and show me the way. I’m one person who could gather all the students in my school and ensure that I had given them the funniest experiences. There ribs were to get damaged and tears sacked out the eyes. Everybody liked the way I used to act and in all it was a chance of building and modelling each other. I had confidence in myself that everything I did, I knew it was going to be the best, I would give everything a try even if I had not done it before. My confidence portrayed a lot that even the judges would think I’m well conversant with it. Emerging winner in many county events just increased my spirit to fight further.

 Apart from having desired to become a presenter, I too had many talents that I wanted to follow, “Follow them all, follow them to the later, you never know where your luck lies, besides talent never fails and fighting hard with the help of God, you can achieve them all.” That’s what my instincts told me, my inner push. That’s what instigated me all through my life.

 I loved writing ever since I was in school. Writing the best compositions and Swahili creative writings, I loved singing, I loved acting, the best actor in the region, I loved jokes, and all these things were in me. Though I did not know where to start and how to start but all I knew is, the starting point is normally harder than the ending point in a career. I did not know where to audition for any acting gig in town, I did not know how to start making a creative writing and finally publish, I did not know which school to go to, to become a journalist.

 However, I did not want to spend four or six other years in school. I know of Journalists, one of the best journalists of course, who are the way they are without going to a study centre. Being a presenter is a talent; even people who pursued very high degrees in law, medicine and education have had to quit getting to their passions and talents like the media and other fields like acting and music. That was not going to become a big deal for me. Sometimes people do the jobs they do not out of passion but because, they only want to make ends meet, they only want to put bread on table. For me I was going to do what my heart falls for. However, in this world nothing comes easy. Desiring to become an actor, I didn’t know where to audition from and even if I would audition, the possibilities of securing a chance would be low, obviously, this is a country where ‘kila kitu ni kujuana’ everything comes with relativity; the triple ‘K’ philosophy.

 I knew of friends like me from the slums, Kibera slums, Koch and Mathare slums, good and talented actors, with a spirit like mine, with a push and desire like mine, with a mind-set just like mine. I knew of this, that we need each other to grow; a tree cannot become a tree unless it’s got all that a tree is made of. I am thinking of a tree without a steam, or rather a tree without the roots, or a tree without branches. I called the slum friends and talked to them about my plan that I was going to be writing plays, act together with them and shoot films; they all welcomed this idea with two hands. The difficulty remained, how were we going to shoot without money? This was just going to be as hard as planting a crop on a rock.

 I was forced to go look for a job in a security firm, this was just a very daring thing. This was just a very great dare; a security job, fresh from school? I became the youngest recruit. The training was very tough and tedious. I trained for two weeks nonstop. I was nearly quitting from the training. My body was in a big pain, all the body parts were aching; lifting even an arm was just a big difficulty. Lifting my hind limbs was such a big joke; pain, pain and pain all over the body.

 I still prayed my Lord to get me out of this as fast as possible. Funny enough the first place I worked was an assignment in one of the biggest malls as an officer. Have always said one should never despise the security guards, this is because most of those guys are normally in school, and they use their security salary to fund their degrees in university. It’s not out of being desperate that they look for the jobs. Some have big businesses, but have a reason for holding them right there.

 All the salary I got was used for funding the activities of the newly formed KMK foundation. My main aim was building myself as an actor and thus building so many other actors like me. We started acting and shooting films. What a big pleasure it was, having started a foundation that supports upcoming talents and gives them a platform to showcase their talents, being the CEO of such a foundation, not that easy, self-sponsoring the group was not that easy as well.

 As an actor, the most important thing is building your brand and letting people know who you are, availing yourself to the public so that everybody can see you and access you whenever they need you.

 “And what do you tell the viewers who would like to be just like you?”

 This is a question that whenever I am asked, I normally lack words, have always had a lot to say but do not know how to say, what to say and what not to. What is normally the easiest for me is what my father Mr Wamuyu told me; that always study yourself, understand yourself and accept who you are; know what you want to be and how to become it.

 Fight your own way out and never give up. To me, Mr Wamuyu was the one who built me and modelled me so much, he brought me up in ways he thought was the best and all advices I normally give to people are what he gave me.

            “Thank you so much Raymond for gracing our show today. We have learned a lot from you, we hope to host you again and again and we pray that you are expanded to bigger heights and that God makes The KMK Foundation big and bigger to bring up more talents...” Said the presenter.

 

                                                                PART II

 You can’t imagine how great I was feeling as I walked out of the interview room. I felt like part of my life dreams had just been made true. This is what my parents and my family had always prayed for. I know they were glued on television to see their son make a powerful presentation. Getting interviewed on a national television, it means you have at least achieved something in life. This was not only a challenge to my siblings but also a good example for them.

 As I left the studios, I tiptoed past the corridors like a hyena. I walked like I was going to fly the next minute. My heart was pumping like a newly bought generator. My head was spinning and whirling like a lob tossed by an impudent toddler. My hair stood still like the elephant grass in a sub desert somewhere; my feelings were beyond explanation. I sang songs of joy, songs I could only interpret myself. I too did not even know what I was singing. Thank God I was never hit by the vehicle that day.

             “Hello!”

            “Hello dear, how’s everything out there?”

            “Just cool bro!”

            “Have left the studios and ....!”

            “Yea you need not to tell me (laughs) already saw you!”

            “Haaa…! Bro and you didn't even text me. I could even big you up!”

            “No, you didn’t need my text to big me up; didn't you know that you have a brother?”

            “Oohh! Come on Mike, Stop it!”

            “Anyway, where are you, I’m coming to pick you up with my car, just let me know where you are.”

            “Ohh! Yea hurry up I’m standing outside the Kenya Kwanza building.”

            “Don’t worry; I have located you via my smart phone” Mike said with a sigh.

For me the waiting was one of a kind, I really wanted to see how Mike was going to react on seeing me. I looked side by side from both directions of the road to see a vehicle that looked familiar. My brain was also gone to a world of make me believe, a world of see me there. I was no longer thinking, I then heard a pat on my back.

            “What’s wrong?” “I have hooted for quite some time, but you didn’t hear, what are you thinking?” Mike queried.

            Nothing. I’m I not supposed to think?” I obviously had nothing to say, I replied in great perceptible confusion.

 He led me into the vehicle and I followed. He opened the door and I found myself pulling him out, I sat on the driver’s seat and he was forced to seat on the next seat. He looked directly into my eyes as if he had a word, maybe a lamentation. I showed him the hand and the key on my hand and I started the vehicle, I did not know where to drive to. At least I had my own house and he too had a house. If it was him driving, he could have taken me to his house. Now that I am at the starring, driving him to his house was going to be so malodorous.

 I stepped breaks and was leading to Sasumua road, leading to my place. All these time, he had remained silent trying to see what my head was full of.

 

            “Hey stop it!” He said.

            “Where, why, just a minute, I just...” I stammered.

            “Listen .... I just wanted us to go to Miriam’s place because you were at my place last week, besides; I had called her to inform her of our coming. She had as well seen you on TV and said she would be glad to see her celebrated brother.

 As he said these his hand was glued onto the staring wheel. I had no option, I just found myself driving towards Miriam’s place. It was that simple and more fun. Mike’s phone rang and he excused himself to receive it. It was obviously his right, I had not say at all. My head was focused outside the vehicle. I did not even hear any word from his conversation. The music in the vehicle, the tint on the windows, the cool leather seat, the comfortable four wheel drive. The next place I found myself was at Miriam’s gate, the hoot I made was so loud that Mike did not like it. After the hoot, I realized that there was a notice at the gate, ‘No hooting.’

 However, I wasn’t shaken, I was ruling the world, and Miriam’s home was mine as well. We got into the house, the house was big and empty, nobody was in there, we wondered what was happening, and the door had been left open. I looked at Mike; Mike looked at me as if expecting something from me.

 What I experienced in the house was so fascinating, questions ran down my heart, the house was simply that packed, everything at its position, the curtains done, table mats done and all the beautiful things I could imagine of. I stepped forward and kept quiet. When I looked on the wall, on my left hand, I saw big writings on a chat. (THANKS RAYMOND MWANGA WAMUYU, YOU MADE US PROUD!”

 I did not know how to read this nicely, my mouth was dry and I was tongue tied.  My eyes were filled with tears and my hand, started shaking. My body was covered by sweat that I did not know where it came from. When I was done with reading these, there was a big shower of flowers from the sealing, some nice soft music started playing, there was a sudden noise in the room, still in the state of confusion, Miriam came from the door leading to the bedroom, Zena came from the door leading to the kitchen, Brian was hiding behind the curtains, all of them came out at the same time.

 I honestly did not know how to react, I honestly did not know whether I should break into tears or break into laughter. That’s the moment you don’t know how you should show your love, you feel what your showing is just per below what should be. That’s when you wonder, should you hug everyone? Should you just fall to the ground and thank them? Or even kiss there feet? That’s the pointy you realize that your bond with people is just that important and a single happiness created in you in a single minute could heal all your acute disorders in the body. That’s when if you have blood pleasure, you auto get it, and if you had it you auto heal.

 After all the celebration, it was time to seat around the table, the Wamuyu family, such a big, lovely and focused family. Everyone in the Wamuyu family was represented. Miriam the eldest daughter of the Wamuyu’s took the Wamuyu position. She reminded me of the Wamuyu meetings, meetings that had moulded us into this. The Wamuyu meeting were convened during meals. This special moment to me was just a lifetime experience that I could never forget.

 Everyone was given a chance to say a word to Wamuyu junior. Congratulations were given, advices, words of wellness were said and greetings passed, jokes were cracked and laughter was made. It was now Miriam’s time to give her remarks - she cleared her throat and received all the attention. She took it up.

 

         “First I’d like to congratulate our brother for the biggest steps his making in life, all these things            reminds me of all the things our parents have always told us. They built a background, a strong                background, for each one of us; they struggled to ensure that despite the fact that they were poor,            we went to school. Everyone of us had dreams and still dreams, each of our dreams are valid,                 valid till we die, however, we have a duty, a role or rather an obligation to validate them.

 We should work hard; daddy always told us that, God is ready to fulfil all that He planted in us. However, we cannot seat and wait like manner from heaven. He needs to see our struggles so that He can intervene. God wants to give each and every one of us gifts; however, he only gives gifts according to your capacity. He looks at how you’ve set your capacity and standards. How is our capacity set in the eyes of the people? Who are we in the people’s eyes? How is our character like?

 Your character is built by your private life, how you leave your own life and your speech as well matters a lot; what protrudes out of our lips defines us a lot. How I wish we withheld all that we were taught by dad. This is mine as your sister, for those who just started being stars, money is nice, it smells nicely and tasty, lets, watch that we should not be corrupted, let’s remember the ways of life”.

 What Miriam said was just breath-taking, I did not imagine that she was full of words to say, a new Wamuyu Reborn. My life was surrounded by all these ups and downs, living life like a star. Everyone who looks at you thinks you can do all they wish, they forget that you also have a life to live, a future to make and a background to withhold. She proceeded.

 

            “So, the big day today is to be graced by our third born, our light, Raymond Wamuyu Junior!” Yells filled the house.

 To me, this was like a biblical dream by Joseph. It was obviously a fulfilment; I did not even have anything to say. My eyes were filled with tears and it remained that everybody was to come and hug me... Everybody was like.... “Ooh! Big baby! Ooh big boy crying...! Come on big lad!

 I picked words from my tongue and simply uttered” I want ... a pen and a paper!” And I was given one... My letter to my parents.

 

                                                              PART III

 

            Hi dad and mum

            It’s your son Raymond Mwanga Wamuyu.

 I hope this finds you well. I am doing well. I hope you are fine? How is the farm doing? Are Riziki and Kadogo doing well? Have they given rise to other calves? How is there milk nowadays? Thick as it was? Or everything worsened for everything? I hope you heard my recent success? I was nominated for the best actor’s award that took place in Durban, South Africa. I had the best experience in the competitions; I hope you pray that I bring the prestigious award home! This is just a platform to market myself further and help me build my brand. All these things and success have always followed me due to your continued support; your advice has always built me and moulded me. It is through your sweat and determination that made the family as strong as it is even now.

 I know you’re not yet out of life full of poverty and suffering. My brothers and I are planning on how to buy land and build you a good house. It’s through mummy’s strictness that made us straight and knew the correct ways of life. I’m always glad to mention that I belong to the great Wamuyu family; my family is not great by chance but by the determination you two had and the prayerful life you chose to live. The spirit you instilled in us and the morals you inculcated into our lives.

 Dad, I have always lived to see your prayers answered your blessings made real and your desires fulfilled; your unhealthy condition is due to your continued suffering. You did heavy jobs only to spoon-feed your kindles. Has mummy stopped complaining of backache, pain in her joints and her legs? Has she settled her mind and stopped spending sleepless nights thinking of what the children are going to eat the next day? Has she stopped thinking of how to settle the debts she had at the Kiosk? Dad, have you stopped thinking that much on how to pay school fees? How to dress your children? When was the last time you slept on a mattress? Tell me dad, tell me! Have you stopped being rained on as you sleep in the deep night? Have the large chunks of termite soil from the grass thatched roof stopped falling on your beddings as you sleep? Have they stopped laughing at you? Calling you all sorts of names, and mimicking you whenever you speak?

 Have you two stopped walking bare foot in the sun and carrying charcoal to the streets to earn a living? I’m so sorry for having reminded you these things; I just felt I had to. It’s very important in my life; it reminds me of where I came from and where I’m headed to. I’m always aware of one thing, that you are too young to start living like the aged; however, it’s due to continued suffering and hard work that makes you that weak.

 My eyes are filled with tears, every time I recall all you went through to bring us up, all the way from carrying heavy loads of charcoal to the market, spending hours and hours on people’s farms in exchange of food. You were selfless, you didn’t buy any good clothes for yourselves, you didn’t live life like dignified persons, just because you knew what the future of your family needed.

 How I wish that the Lord you pray, the one you’ve always trusted in, the one you’ve, always bowed down to can never forsake you, that, He fulfils that which he planned for your children so that you can eat the fruits of your labour. Even if you died right now without seeing any, I am pretty sure that, whenever you will be, you’ll rest in peace and that your hearts will pump with joy and smiles.

 I remember vividly, Dad telling me, “work hard my son, so that you can embarrass those who looked down on these family, that they may say that, that weak man produced a strong army,” I am living to be an inspiration to others. I always have prayed that God uses me as a vessel and that He gives me a testimony to believe. I living testimony to inspire and create Wamuyus.

I know my flesh is wicked, it’s just like any other flesh, wicked, it’s just full of desires, which have sometimes led me astray. They’ve sometimes made me do things that have defined my death. I am not saying these to make either of you sad. If you die right now, yours won’t be a funeral but a celebration for a successful life well lived, however, if I died now, mine would be a funeral of miserable life once lived. Mark the difference. I know that God has favour with me and will protect me against all these, however ‘Msiba wa kujitakia hauna kilio.’ My back problem is a problem that hits back on my deeds, I don’t surely mean that I know the cause but sometimes the heart offends itself. I will live the rest of the life with a lot of care.

 I love you so much parents. I love all my family members. I have none like you. Say hi to all that know me.

Bye

 

            Yours

            Raymond Mwanga Wamuyu

 As I finished writing these and placed the pen on the table, everyone looked at me. For me, that was the Naked Truth, what was directly from my heart. The truth in my soul, I folded the letter and placed it into an envelope.

 

 

                                                                      END