I could see the confusion in the receptionist's face.
She was wondering:
Okay, this man doesn't look old enough to be a polygamist.
And if we argued this was their child, this woman doesn't look old enough to have birthed this grown up child.
Even if she came into the marriage with the child, it wouldn't be this big.
And even so, why would they bring their child on honey moon?
Or maybe she is driving them and going away?
Ai, no. Mimi sielewi, let me wait and see because I don't understand.
That was the soliloquy that went through her head.
I walked over to the pool, it was a decent enough pool. Medium in size.
I hate those tiny pools where you cannot do five wraps without hitting your wrists on the opposite walls.
They make me feel claustrophobic .
I don't like very large swimming pools either. Unless I will be with someone all the time. Whenever I get to the deep end I feel so sure there is a whale lurking under the dark water ready to bite off my stomach.
This would do.
I would swim under the stars.
There was no mistaking that the cottage on the left was what was reserved for the couple on honey moon.
It had a big heart-shaped flower wreath of red and purple bougainvillaea.
This was going to be very interesting.
I went into the reception and Godi was just informing them yes, I would be staying the week as well. Yes I was their friend.
No it was not their honeymoon.
And so we walked to the cottage, to find quite blush inducing bed.
We walked over to what would be my room. Nice.
'I should replicate this for my house.'
I was thinking while
the room steward came running and apologised and said she would also prep my bed. We went to look over at the kitchen and when I got back to my room my bed had the most beautiful model of swans made out of towels.
Three months earlier Maria had said they had a gift for me, I thought hmm...maybe lunch?
My cousin bro had died a few weeks before, I was still in heavy fog mentally wondering what had just happened and could someone smart please explain to me in Kenyan English what was going on.
Also,my contract job had ended and I was wondering how I would continue to manage my volunteer work at the sign language department.
There were other subplots in my life as well.
So finally the day came for the trip to Diani.
It coincided with my last week at the Department. I at least had a distraction, else I'd really have crawled into a hole to die.
Feeling my purpose was over.
I was at first wondering how this would turn out. What would we talk about, how would we spend whole days together? The three of us. But by the second day I was wondering why this was not a one month arrangement. It was like being with my close family.
Cooking together, talking and walking on the beach together.
And when we went swimming I could be free because hey, there were two people who would come looking for me.
But most of all was that the wretchedness I had been feeling started to disappear.
And when Maria sang to me one evening.
I really felt awful for not paying attention to people more, you know?
Flash forward to a few months later when my bottom really felt out for real and here we are discussing postmoterm and other unpleasant things with my aunt's and uncles and who comes trouping in to our Umoja house.
Godi and Maria and Ayler and Liz and Swaleh and another couple from TZ And Rosemary and I can't remember who else because I have tears in my eyes.
It's probably 10.pm and we are singing -life without end at last- and they are now singing -precious daughter, he will be there for you, he will care for you- and Ayler is talking and reading something from the Bible and Swaleh says a prayer.
And I stop mid flight.
I've been running.
Since the day they told me my mother's body was on it's way to outspan in a hearse, I've been running, running as fast as I can. I donno to what destination. I'm just running as fast as I can. I'm screaming too. At the top of my voice and I'm kicking the ground as I ran because I'm angry and I'm scared. And All I want to do is run away.
This is a story of thankgiving.
For these to lovies who held me up when my spine gave in.
And for the lessons I've learned from my own experiences.
That when someone is falling into abyss, you don't walk away. you grab a rope and go down with them, because after a while they will stop and start climbing up, and going back is a lonely journey. But not so painful when there's someone's voice in that darkness.
I'm thankful for those that didn't disappear.
Those who called even when they didn't know what to say.
Thos who gave me things when words were missing
and texts.
If Jehovah had not come to my rescue, I'd surely have ceased to exist.
I would soon have perished
But now oh Jehovah, I'm constantly with you. You have taken hold of my right hand.
