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If there was someone psychologically tortured, it was my mother.

Life & Style

If there was someone psychologically tortured, it was my mother.

If there was someone psychologically tortured, she saw a traitor. My auntie’s presence often saved me from the worst she could do to a rival. Do you remember I told you she carried out a secret abortion?

She was like a woman scorned. Her healing was slow and you would understand her behaviour but it was not reason enough for her to be mad at me. She almost went  berserk. I don’t remember how many times she swore to kill me.

‘Don’t keep so much around your mom. Give her space to heal well.’ Aunt Robinah cautioned me. There came a time when you could not blame her reactions or attitude on the healing process from the abortion she did. It was pure hatred, jealousy and envy. She maliciously wanted me out of her way. She laid so many traps for me but thank God who was on my side all the time. She asked me to do complicated things which were harmful or would put me in more trouble or danger I would surmount them.

During those days, Bunamwaya was relatively a  remote area with neighbors spaced in reasonable distance from each other yet they lived in high wall fences.

The poor or middle class neighbors were not exceptional. They had huge plots that their houses would be surrounded by banana plantations. The spring well was a little distance down a fearful valley at night since for us we stayed on the hill top. There once developed a water crisis as the taps went empty for about five days. We had a reservoir at our house and in case of such situations; we would sell water to our neighbors.

We exhausted the water in reserve and my mom waited for me at 8:00pm to send me down the spring for a jerry can of water. She pretended she needed it. It was scary on the way and dangerous at times. This was a village were goons had no sexual respect for mad women. I don’t think they would spare me for rape even when I was pregnant. There was occasional path murders and dumping of dead bodies in thick bushes along the paths at night .

As I walked out of our gate to the main road, Sarah and Ronnie were on their way back to their house from the shops. “Oh My God!” was it holidays already? I wondered aloud Nooo… they were back for a public holiday which was just a few days away. None of them knew my situation. They asked me and I told them where I was going. They perfectly knew my mother.

‘Come we are going to give you water from our house.’ Ronnie suggested and he was bitter with my mother. I did not enter their gate. I did not want them to see my stomach.

What happened next?

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