July 09, 2020

Horizon: A stolen Boyhood, Season 2_Part 2


By Mwangi Macharia

I freely let my tears drop. Mr Mukandi could not convince me enough to let out what troubled my heart. For all I thought about was you papa. Your betrayal that pushed mama to the wall, fighting for both of our survival and now she is nowhere to be found to fight for me any longer. Papa is this fair? I live like an orphan yet both my parents are alive.

Mr Mukandi slowly stood up from his seat, walked towards me and embraced me. He embrace was tender and warm papa his love was real yet it could not stop me from thinking, ‘How would my father’s embrace be?’ Warm air from Mr Mukandi’s nostrils nostrils caressed my head as he whispered “All will be well son. I am here for you.” This words seemed to be the valve openers, for immediately he whispered this I could no longer control my sobbing.

In his arms I felt safe and secure. My position as a boy in this world was reaffirmed. He love for me was assured at that moment and I knew that though you were not around papa, I had found another who would father me without running.

When my sobbing reduced I loosened my hug and looked at him. I could not believe, his eyes were red and wet yet his steady voice smoothly kissed my ears as he requested me to eat my breakfast so that we could not get late to report to school.

I finished my breakfast and we proceeded on to board Mr Mukandi’s car. No one had strength to speak. The silence hurt more each minute till Mr Mukandi could not bear it any more. He turned on the radio and began to

nod his head to the songs as they played smoothly. The songs opened our hearts. We laughed, giggled and smiled as we made fun of the lyrics of the songs.

To us the journey was short and it was sad when we realised that we had already arrived. The journey to school had made us realise that we meant more to each other. But now was the time for a temporary separation. One that we desired not but fate had it. It would happen.

The school gate frustrated my dreams. All along when I heard about high schools I thought of the huge gates with walls surrounding the schools yet the reality was far from the dreams. Mr Mukandi drove in and packed. We said a simple prayer of thanks giving and walked out and opened the boot of the car. Before we could offload anything some two boys had already come ready to help and take us to the respective points where we could be served.

The smiles on their faces were angelic. They warmed up the hearts of each person that came into the compound. Their generosity was indescribable. It gave a false illusion of hope. Each boy crave for a “joker” as they called us. Yet their hearts were dark with deceit papa, their thoughts only saw the benefits at the end of the day. Manipulation was hidden beneath their tongues and in their fists the fury of monolisations.

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