CHAPTER 1
I knew it would definitely begin with the end and the end would make me soulless with no feelings to recognize or react to. After the heart break, the language I found myself using was odd.
Blind, confused, foolish or stupid. Impossibly happy for passion or connecting, and with the truest instinct, I have bound myself to no friendship.
I felt the happy thoughts wearing and hatred taking its place in my delicate mind and soul.
For two years, I embraced loneliness and a don't care attitude. The last time this body experienced joy was the day I regretted and cursed almost going crazy due to the fake misused word….''LOVE" even after my cautious inner-self continuously warned me of what would, I still gave it a deaf ear.
It was now four years down the line but still no change in my sad story.
As much as I would want to recall all that brought me to my misery, nothing much came out of it , except my three years ago encounter.
So, ..... Michael, my cousin, made an effort to travel all the way from Paris in order help me reconnect with nature, but anyways let's see if he manages!!
Michael dressed, in a rather dashing, two-piece jumpsuit of Prada brand, black ankle socks on black Gucci crocs.
Its 9:00AM everyone is up, the house already looks like its in the afternoon with all the dolls, toys, clothes everywhere- scattered.
"Tatty, good morning cuz."
Michael kisses Tatty on both cheeks as he hands her a cup of hot coffee.
"drink this cuz, it might get you in a good mood"
taking a sip as my eyes browsed the whole house.
"Nanny…..."
"no no no cuz its very early in the morning, give her some slack ."
Michael interrupts me.
"Tatty, come let's see" he pulls me by my right hand and directs me to the sofa. He continues "so cuz, as much am here to help you, you will have to assist yourself get better. Tomorrow, we have an appointment with a close friend of mine at Nairobi, Kimathi Street, where she will be able to spare time to talk to us.
As much as I would have wanted to avoid the fact, he meant I am to see a psychiatrist, would be impossible. I didn't object.
The following morning, a Saturday bright morning, the chirping of birds and mooing of cows made the morning suck for me. I saw a note on my table from Michael instructing me to get ready, he will have arrived by noon to pick me up.
I stretched my neck to check what time it was and realized it was way to early for me. So, I lazily threw my white puffy duvet, wore my white crocs and went downstairs to the kitchen.
Suddenly, an annoying high pitch noise filled the whole house. "Ugh! These annoying kids."
Ooops! I must have forgotten to mention the famous triplets born out of me.
Yes, I have three girls, kids that only remind me that my past was tragedy, on the contrary their names are best known by their nanny who takes care of them as of her own, I mean that's why I pay her handsomely.
All I know these three destroyed my figure for nine whole months!!
For four years, I avoided talking to them , never looking at them, never cared of what they eat or whatever. Money was provided largely.
All I was aware of was their nanny; an American, black, middle aged lady who if am not mistaken about forty to fifty years of age. A citizen of the American law having lost her family from the war killing her three children and her husband making her an orphan to no where to go.
I only employed her for the sake of having a house help and nanny to the kids. Since I came to with the triplets she never left their side until one Sunday afternoon.
The nanny came home from a fun day with the kids and as usual am always at the balcony smoking my cigarrete when I noticed one kid didn't alight from the van. The nanny looked at me with watery eyes. I didn't understand, I took another puff when it hit me that one of the triplets is missing. I coughed out the smoke as panic printed all over my face. I ran down stairs to her.
"Where is one of the triplets? Huh? Speak up woman !! Did you swallow your tongue?"
I checked the van maybe it was a sick prank, but the van was full of snacks wrappings. From under the sits to the boot, still no trace of her…
"WHERE IS THE THIRD??' at this point I knew that I fucked up trusting another woman to raise and protect my kids.
"ma'am, I …I …. the triplets were all playing together, I turned to buy afia drinks for them but when I turned Lisa was nowhere to be found. I asked everyone but no one seemed to…." The nanny tried to explain but my mind was evilly imagining all the inhuman thing that would be happening to my little 333 seven33 year old daughter.
My eyes wide open almost popping out, hands sweaty, heart beating like the western drums. I was petrified.
I snatched the car keys from her trembling hands and drove like hell broke loose to Uhuru Park. Fortunately, I arrived within a split sec.
On my slightly left, there was a kid being bullied by huge boys older than him if I guessed right, they seemed aged thirteen or fifteen, the one being bullied if I was to range his age using his height, I might be misled for he was in size as of a dwarf. Slightly near them there was a vendor and the only was for an angry cat to listen is by being fed. I bought six cakes and called out to the boys who on seeing the gifts I bared, came running towards and grabbed as they greedily tore through the wrappings.
For the boy who was now getting up from the ground, I bought him Afia mango flavor and two packets of cake. I approached him and handed them to him which he hesitated before picking then stood to leave.
"WAIT! …sorry, wait, am looking for my daughter ,'
Shows him a picture of Lisa.
"Kuja(come), kuja(come), harakisha(hurry)"
He led me down the stream and what I saw made me remember a memory as if it were a dijavu. An older man probably of his forty's, forcefully dragged my baby down the stream to a nearby shrub.
Shouting on the top of my voice, "YOU SON OF A BITCH LET GO OF MY DAUGHTER!!!" The man heard me and dropped Lisa.
"My dear go call for help, RUN!!" The young boy run to get help but then who would follow a street kid down the stream??
It was up to me to be the..... of..... and save my daughter.
Lisa was covered with dirt, bruises on her right knee and her wrists, tears of regret, thanksgiving, happiness … name it, cascaded down my chubby cheeks.
I was relieved.
"mummy …mm mum," Lisa tried speaking when she fell unconscious. Thankfully there was a couple that heard the plea for help made by the street kid and an ambulance had arrived.
At the hospital, I kept seeing pieces of memories that seemed to be of my past, of a man manhandling me but the problem is, I have never met the man before. Or maybe I thought.
Back at home, I felt unsafe trusting the nanny to handle three girls, so I added additional personal security more of the kids' body guards, two to be precise.