Celebrating East African Writing!
My dear daughter,
As I write this, my heart is bleeding blood and tears. Yet I have a calm inside of me because I now know what I must do. I am writing you this letter because I need you to know that you are loved.
I know that you are too young to understand what I want you to know today but a day is coming when you will ask these questions; out loud and in your heart.
Let me begin by saying you were conceived in love. Your father and I talked about having you and we would often joke that you will look like your father.Talking about you even before conception brought great joy to us. You must own this fact as you should in all I am going to say to you. I never want you to ever let the thought of being a problem child to ever cross your mind, wound your soul and rob you of innocence.You are very separate from me and him.You have your life to live.We have lived ours by the choices we made.
Your father is not with you not because he did not want you but because he is a broken man. That does not mean that if I found this out earlier, I would have not have had you. No! I came to realize the nature of your father when you were in my womb. I thought I could weather it, if only for your sake. But it became clear that especially for your sake, I had to be as far away from him as possible.
You will have a fleeting thought that he was the way he was to me and by extension, you, because I brought that out in him. I thought the same too. My child, let it be just that, a thought that will go up like mist during sunrise. It took me precious time to unveil this skewed thought.
I need not wonder how my life would have turned out, or the kind of woman you would have grown up to be, I just know it would have been unfortunate. There were many incidents and I shall tell you some of them, if only to help you understand.
It was the time I had a car accident and he accused me of being careless and never bothered to followup on your status. It is when I was unwell in the house and needed medical attention. I called him, he never responded. I justified this treatment with the fact that he did not fully appreciate pregnancy. He’s a guy, right? It was when I went to hospital for your birth; he said he would be back in 15 min, he never returned. It was the following morning when I called him with information that I had to go for a cesarean section, he said he was on his way, he never came. It was during that time that he saw you for two minutes, three days after your birth and scolded me for not taking care of you since like any newborn child you were crying. It was when it was time for me to go home and I took you with me to my house. I thought that was not too bad. Now that you were here, flesh and blood, surely he would actively take part in your growth.
He failed to remit your child support money. It was after I begged that he would deposit this money in my account. It would be in bits and pieces. It would be at the middle of the month. Sometimes, there would be nothing. Still, I kept the faith. Still I hoped he would come round.
In my anguish I once felt compelled and dropped you off in the middle of the night at his house. He brought you to me a few hours later and I refused to take you back. I thought, “You do it, I want my life back!”
The following day, he brought you back and I have never been happier to see you. You are my life. He was to one day accuse me of conceiving you with a man who was a mutual friend that we both loved and respected. He would go further and ask for a DNA test. That, I thought was the last straw. I had seen nothing yet. I came to learn that your father married two weeks ago.
As I write this to you, I do not know the future. I am certain however that it is one without him.
Your ever loving mother.
Wairimu Muria Blogs at http://mtangasheha.blogspot.com/