Shadows Unveiled

Fleeting Affection

Following the harrowing ordeal, an unexpected twist unfolded as our love blossomed. We danced, embraced drinking sprees, and reveled in the simple joy of each other's company. Even though I was in charge of household chores like cooking and cleaning, the three men who had previously caused me distress surprisingly made very few demands, and as a result, I didn't have to do any chores for them. 

Down the road, Joey's behavior took a dark turn as his abuse of marijuana and beer escalated, often leaving him in a stupor, completely disconnected from his surroundings. He returned home hurling insults, particularly targeting his own mother. One evening, he brought a friend and insisted I serve him dinner. When I refused, he unleashed a violent kick to my back, sending me flying across the family room. The chaos escalated, with Papa chasing him brandishing a machete. 

There were instances where, in his intoxicated state, we had to resort to restraining him by tying his hands and feet to prevent him from lashing out at everyone in the house. The violence reached a peak at times, with Joey hurling dangerous objects like a hammer at me. In those moments, I could only express gratitude to a higher power for protecting and keeping me safe amidst the storm of turmoil that had become an unwelcome companion in my daily life. 

After eight months of silently shouldering the burden of cleaning and cooking, a pivotal moment arrived when I decided to stand my ground. I insisted on joining whichever college my parents would find for me. In November 1983, I took a decisive step and enrolled at City Secretarial College after realizing that I was time-barred from joining Kisii Nursing School. This marked the beginning of my secretarial career, and to my delight, it turned out to be the pinnacle of my wit as I excelled and passed exams with flying colors. 

Throughout this academic journey, Romeo remained the anchor of my heart. We frequented restaurants for lunch, spent weekends at merry-making venues, and Stima Club became a cherished weekend favorite where Romeo took charge of the music, and I proudly sat beside him. Our shared love for rugby solidified, and we passionately cheered for Mwamba RFC. Romeo occasionally hosted house parties, inviting a lively group of friends into our world. 

We had both been expelled from the Muungano Choir. Whenever the choir master Mganga spotted a beautiful new member, he would treat the girls to a night out, with the intention of capturing and monopolizing the newcomer's attention. Romeo, unwilling to tolerate such behavior, requested that I leave the choir, a request I complied with. However, once the master realized our involvement, he pressured Romeo into leaving as well. 

Regrettably, when it came to Romeo's social circle, I could only recall his brothers and sister. His best friend Lemmy and an acquaintance named Mwidini were the only two friends I can mention, though I unintentionally shut them out of my memory bank. It seems I had a selective memory and eyes for only one man – Romeo. He eventually made a move from the Kimathi estate to Buruburu. In those days when connections mattered more than certifications, our efforts to secure a job for me proved futile. Frustration loomed large, casting a shadow over our aspirations. During one of Romeo's vacations, he stood by my side as we ventured into the Industrial area for a crucial job interview. 

 Fate played a tricky hand – we inadvertently left my certificates in an envelope behind. Despite our hasty return to retrieve them, someone had already claimed the elusive documents. Amidst the setbacks and the challenges of the daunting job market, the love between Romeo and me stood unwavering, a resilient force that transcended the trials and tribulations life presented us. In the grand tapestry of our shared journey, nothing else held as much significance as the bond we forged. 

On a particular Saturday, Romeo introduced me to his brother Silla, a stout and fair figure who scrutinized me from head to toe before offering praise for my beauty. Silla's glazed eyes bore evidence of alcohol abuse, revealing the struggles that marked his own journey. Kennedy, the third-born and tall with a deep complexion, quickly became my favorite sibling. He accompanied me to the market, regaling me with stories that had me laughing heartily, displaying his zealous self-assurance.