A story is told of a little girl's life by the name Cindy.
When the young couple were blessed with their first born baby, nothing on earth could be compared to the immense Joy and Happiness witnessed in that newly established household. Though the young couple was not so well-off both financially and economically, their new-born angel brought to them ultimate, incommensurate bond, so strong, that tied the young family together as compared to what others may perceive of family bonding.
Photo: Courtesy
The husband, (whom you would later know why I prefer calling him 'a father'), had been jobless since graduating Three years before. However to make it in these Nairobi shanties, as well as support her wife, he had been hawking boiled Eggs and sometimes boiled Maize. In this business, he frequently encountered with the wrath of cruel and ruthless Nairobi city council askaris who stopped at nothing to shed the blood of anyone found on the wrong. Thanks to his, wit and intellect, he had severally managed to outshine the illiterate, corrupt Kanjos. With the peanut-coins he got from his energy-demand job, he was able to pay for the rent for the small mabati-walled room he and his wife rented in Majengo. His wife was also playing her role as a loving wife by giving her husband the support that many were always envious of.
Time flied. Days turned to Weeks. Weeks became months. Months transformed to years.
They say God doesn't abandon those who sweat for a good course. My people from the village have a saying that during famines, all the waters in the rivers might dry up. But as long as the rivers themselves don't disappear, there is always Hope. (Forgive my poor translation).
So, after two years or so, of 'hustling', the 'father' was employed in something that 'looked like a job'. In other words, the bosses were literally misusing him and keeping him under their payroll only because of his impeccable hardworking skills and unmatched prowess. (Or may be because he didn't 'Know the right people'). To describe the thing in simple words, the bosses envied him. They had every reason to fire him whenever they felt like but they couldn't imagine the company running without his input.
Our guy knew all these yet he never complained. He didn't want to go back into hawking and have a "date" with city council askaris anymore.
This is Kenya where even when your boss throws/drops a sanitary towel on your way, reality demands that you pick it and take it to the necessary place.
Miraculously, he survived in that "something that looks like a job" for a like two years.
Some few months afterwards, his pregnant wife was due and he had tensed so much and was very anxious not knowing what to expect. Luckily enough the guy had saved enough money that would have enabled him settle his wife's maternity bills and cater for his newborn baby. In Kenya by the way anything can happen especially in the maternity ward.
She was a pretty, little angel. The guy was over whelmed with joy. The fact that She looked exactly like him mad the guy mad with happiness. When it came to the naming of the baby, the young couple settled for Cindy claiming that the name sounded like the word "Happy". Indeed they were happy - the three of them - to be always together.
He wrote a letter to his bosses requesting for some time off-duty to enable him to be available for his wife and baby. The bosses never responded to his first and second letters. A week later, he wrote his final one, resigning from his job saying he had spent three years of his life making money and now he wanted to spent the rest of his life happy with his family -with immediate effect.
After this, all "our guy" wanted to do was to spend the every minute he could get with his little baby, Cindy.
They say when happiness becomes a man's companion, time becomes a rare, fast-moving commodity. Before long, Cindy had grown into a beautiful six-year old Papa's treasure. His father, as a birthday gift, planned to take her around the city into the park for a fun day with her friends.
And for my innocent 'diaspora' followers and ilk, here in Kenya, we don't have such things as "Amusement Parks" and those sorts of things. Instead, we have a huge, ugly thing called Uhuru Park which is more famous for being a venue to negative politicians, sufferers, harlots, idlers and thieves masquerading as Holy men of God!
However much many of us here would love to find somewhere peaceful to celebrate our happiness, more often than not, our pockets don't favour us. But because of the importance of such events to the ones we love, we find ourselves headed for Uhuru Park - with our loved ones in tow. Cindy's father was among these men.
The party was just awesome. Singing and dancing and joy and happiness all over. Seated somewhere away from the others, watching, Cindy's Papa couldn't hold back the tears rolling freely down his cheeks. By the way, there's nothing that brings emotions to a poor man's heart, better than seeing his child forget about Poverty for once and enjoy life like those 'others'.
The happiness was however short-lived, his eyes ran dry -for a second- as he saw Cindy, his precious, fall down in an awkward manner. What could have just happened? In the blink of an eye, what was a joyful singing had turned into disorganised up and down movement and loud screams. He had kept his eyes on her daughter who was wow just lying there-motionless.
There are some things that are too impossible to imagine. "Maybe she's just playing a game and lying down is part of it." Reality hadn't hit him that on that very day, there were planned protests against a major entity in the city.
He just swung and found himself holding his daughter against his bosom like a new-born baby. The reality HIT HIM at that moment. She'd been shot. Yes Cindy had been shot on the chest! He cried a River as he watched his little angel disappear into the other world of the unknown.
Nobody can tell, how long he held the lifeless body of his daughter but a witness claimed that as he raised the body by his arms and tried to walk away, gunshots were heard. He fell down but he couldn't make it to his feet as other gunshots were heard-again. This time, he fell, face-first, holding Cindy by his arms. Who is going to take the blame? Stray bullet?
...In a span of minutes, what was anticipated to be the best Family moment, turned accidental -
and Papa is no More,
and Papa is no More,
Papa's Treasure, Little Cindy, is no More.
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