Saturday, January 15, 2011

JACOB'S CROSS

Old Memories…….

When they sent Jacob to Mathare Mental Institution in Nairobi , I thought I would never have to see or think about him again. Twenty years later, Grandfather died. No one but Grandmother and I turned up to mourn his passing. I had never given much thought to how sour things must have turned for him and Grandmother since the day Jacob was committed to mental institution for the alleged bizzarre murder of our father.

Grandmother took her time before she recognised me. When she did, joy obscured the grief in her eyes for a moment.

“Elina! I thought I had lost you forever!” she cried as she clasped me to her. I could feel her tears on my shoulder and the familiar palm scent of her skin oil. She walked me to her hut, which seemed even smaller than I remembered it. While she rattled around her fireplace trying to heat something up for me, I studied the old black and white photographs all over the earthen walls. I found only one with Jacob and me together with father and mother. In it, I am a smiling plumb child and Jacob is this skiny little boy with a nice smile, I remember mother telling us to smile for the photoman. Father looked ready to burst with pride as he stands behind Mama, enveloping us with his arms. Mama is looking beautiful in a flowered dress and she is tilting her head to one side, her eyes on father. One could see the love between them. Grandmother caught me looking as she came and gave me a bowl of soup she had heated and bread. “He was such a lovely little boy that Jacob. Easy to love, always smiling. And always so eager to help me with everything. I worried it was because he wanted to make sure we wouldn’t stop loving him. As if we would or I could! Even after one does the unthinkable... You always love your flesh and blood, no matter what ,” she said as she urged me to take the soup.

“There was a lot of whispering that it was us, the family’s fault,” she said.

Her eyes were dull and sad as though years of shame had drained the colour out of them. “We brought him up, after all. Others blamed your mother, saying she left without bringing her children up to adulthood.. Your mother was always quickly angered, but she didn’t start acting strangely untiil the shock of losing your father to another woman caught up with her.. You could hardly say it was her fault, but people always want to put the blame somewhere. How is she now?” she asked.

“Physically well. Very strong, in fact,”I said

“We never heard a word from her since she took you away. For a long time I thought she might get well enough to come for Jacob. As time went on, I hoped she might come to see him at least,” her eyes darkened I could see a flick of anger there.

“How is Jacob?” I asked, not out of any genuine interest but because I couldn’t talk to her about mother.

“I haven’t been to see him since last month,” She said, “I hear the doctors are saying he is responding well to treatment and that they might release him soon.”

I frowned.

“Are they sure they’re going to let him out?,”I asked

“Yes. They think he’s ready. He told them he accepted he did it and that he is ill. Apparently he’s doing well with his treatment. But,” she hesitated. I might be family, but she hardly knows me well enough to confide in me she and I were never close. Perhaps it was out of the need to want to confide in someone that she continued anyway, “He told me something.”

“Something... bad?,” I asked

“I think he’s telling them what they want to hear. I don’t believe he’s really any better, I think he will do it again,” She said a worried look on her face.

“Shouldn’t you tell someone at the hospital?” I asked her

“I can’t,” she looked down at her tightly-clasped gnarled hands with veins criss-crossing the backs of them creating green ridges. “It would be a betrayal. He trusts no one in this world except me. I don’t know what it would do to him if he were to find out I’d told you or anyone.”

“But you think he should stay where he is?”I asked her.

There was a long pause before she mouthed the word ‘Yes.’

“But he’ll be released if you don’t say anything,” I probed

“Yes.”

After studying her hands for a while longer, she looked me in the eye, “You could do it,” she said, before I could list my excuses: he doesn’t know me; it’s a long way; I have responsibilities.

She said, “He told me he can prove he is innocent. He says he’s got evidence now that he plans to take to the authorities as soon as he’s out. You should have heard him rambling on about how DNA could never be wrong and that forensic science is now advanced and it was easier to prove innocence by comparing someone’s DNA from the crime scene.”

Now that set me thinking.

Barred windows….

Before I could meet Jacob, a stone –faced female nurse searched me with a thoroughness that allowed no room for modesty, then escorted me through a maze of shiny-floored corridors and white doors. We marched out into the lush green of the hospital grounds. I quickened my pace as we passed the looming grey structure of the main building , it could have passed for a campus dormitory but the Hundreds of small barred windows staring down at me with sightless black eyes and the secured entrance was a dead give-away. It was what it was, a mental institution.

The nurse matched me step for step as she spoke, “Jacob ni kijana mzuri, amepona sasa na atatoka hivi karibuni.” Jacob is a nice young man and he is now healed and will be released soon.

The nurse showed me around as she explained that only their low-risk patients were housed in that building. The nurse then led me into a cosy living room for patients and their visitors and went to fect Jacob.

The knot in my stomach tightened while I waited. I wondered if it would be like the last time. Seeing Jacob then had stirred memories buried so deep and long ago that I had thought they were dreams. Memories of happier times, before Father married the other woman, and before mama ceased to be the good old loving mama I used to adore. Before Jacob and I were separated and the harmony of our lives shattered.

Beautiful brother……

The doors opened and I stopped breathing. The moment I laid eyes on him I let out a breath and the knot in my stomach unravelled. Now in his early thirties, he still had the face of an angel with the his dark soulful eyes, he was still my handsome twin brother.

Jacob sat in the sofa opposite me, shifted about, then relaxed back into the leather cushion. I smiled at the male version of me, my saviour.

“Wow Elina!,” he said. “You’re beautiful, my beautiful sister, a female version of me.”

I wanted to tell him how the soft deep sound of his voice, brought to mind images of our father and transported me to a carefree happier past but I couldn’t.

‘Thanks,’ I said.

“I can’t believe you’re here, after all this time. I always dreamt of meeting you one day. I never thought it would somewhere like this,” He said his eyes never leaving mine.

Jacob put his hand in his pocket and brought out a coloured picture of us. Him and me. It was

“What about mother, will she come to see me?” He asked

“No. She’s too unwell. I’m sorry,” I told him feeling a tightening of my throat, I felt sorry for him and I blamed myself, I would have been the one he was coming to see. The guilt washed over me, I should have come more often.

I would have been the one in Mathare Mental Hospital.

“How’s Grandmother?” he asked at last.

“Ok, considering. She told me all about you growing up, grandmother loves you .” I told him

“I still remember him,” He said.

I knew he was referring to father.

“I don’t remember much about him; his voice was kind and his laugh was loud. we were only eight when he died,” I said

“ When you killed him, you mean.” He said but there was no trace of anger or blame in his voice, he said it casually.

“You know he deserved it,” I said

Jacob said nothing.

“It was a terrible time for mother,” I continued. “She was so ill with grief and didn’t even know you were there half the time. She still misses you and father,” I lied.

Mother is no longer capable of remembering, much less missing, her once beloved husband and son. She has been affected by murder of father.

“Why did she only take you?” Jacob’s voice quivered a little.

“To protect you, I suppose. It was difficult for her to take you knowing what you had done,” I said.

“What she thought I had done, you mean,”he said.

“Has it been hard on you in here?” I asked

“I’m warm, well fed and I’ve plenty to do,”Jacob answered., “I feel safe in here, no one is condemning me here and baying for my blood. No one is concerned with the other here.”

“Why did you do it Elina? Why did you kill father?,” He asked, “and it was terrible, the knife wounds, the blood”

“You know what he did, Jacob? You what he did to mother first then to me,”I said the old rage rising up in me.

“And I paid for your sins all this years,” He said, “ I knew you would take your own life if you were cooped up here like me. You have no idea. It has been difficult.”

“I could have paid for them myself if you had let me. Swift justice I call it.What makes you want to give me away now..? “ I asked,“Grandmother says you got evidence, what is it you got?”


To Be Continued............

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

THE HAND SHE WAS DEALT

it began....

We will call her SHE.

SHE's 39th birthday was the catalyst for the events that would take place in her life in the year to come. The realization that her 40th birthday was right around the corner haunted her thoughts. Her two sons were off to boarding school for months since they joined secondary school.. The sexual dysfunction that had plagued SHE's marriage had only gotten worse over the last decade and her frustration gnawed at her like a teething puppy. How many more nights would SHE go to bed alone and frustrated? SHE was convinced that she would turn 40, her looks would soon deteriorate and that her vagina would shrivel up and fall away, disintegrate to dust, like an unused limb. SHE would grow old going to bed night after night with this man who was her best friend by day and a complete stranger by night .SHE could count the number of times her husband made love to her. She would usually start counting around new year, and by December the total was at at 6. SHE pleaded with him to take action, find a doctor, a sex therapist, take viagra, watch porn, stop drinking completely, SHE even encouraged him to visit the infamous strip clubs of Nairobi or go to those hothouses in Lavington and Kileleshwa. SHE would prance around their bedroom in her sexiest bra and panties, or completely nude, but he never noticed her. As the longtime sexual aggressor in their relationship, SHE had become resentful and tired, no longer did SHE desire his attentions which to her felt like pity rather than desire. They were awkward now, too much attention had been paid to what should have come naturally and been spontaneous. SHE would meet her friends for coffee and the conversation always turned to sex. HER friends talked about how their husbands couldn't get enough, they complained as if it were a chore, they didn’t know how lucky they were. SHE tried to convince herself that every other aspect of her marriage was enviable, so what if her friends had more sex,SHE had more of everything else, her husband is a wonderful provider and father, and nothing in life is perfect. SHE convinced herself of this for over a decade. The more people SHE talked to, friends, family , basically whoever would listen, the realization struck that it was terribly abnormal. SHE longed for a man to want her, to pay attention, , to whisper in her ear and fill her with lust and desire. Finally, around her 39th birthday, the reality sunk in that it was not to be, the prescription of Viagra sat untouched in the medicine cabinet covered in dust, symbolic of their sex life.......

Emanating Sexual Vibes.......

Fortunately or unfortunately for SHE, her sex drive was in an overdrive. SHE felt like a hot blooded teenager, SHE also felt sexier than ever, and must have been emanating sexual vibes because SHE was getting some attention, like a dog in heat. After child rearing and working out for over a decade, SHE felt confident that her high school was body back (except for her ravaged from breastfeeding breasts everything ship shape). SHE discovered she could have a boob lift surgery,SHE worked out every day at a gym, threw out her sweats and started paying attention to her clothes. SHE also began to spend ridiculous amounts of money, on clothes, dental work, make up,you name it. SHE wasn't afraid, she was determined. SHE felt the need to take the world by the balls and go for it. SHE was desperate to find a lover, she had been fantasizing about it for years, now there was no turning back. Her guilt was assuaged by the fact that her husband was ungrateful despite her commitment of a decade of faithful service as a wife and mother of his children. SHE was concerned that her life was flying by. If there ever was a time to try and find a man to have an affair with, it was then.

Plethora of married men and women...

For the first time SHE understood the sexy housewives of the show Desperate Housewives . Glamorized, upper middle class housewives having sex with their sexy young gardeners. SHE also understood that wife who calls a local radio station to complain of her sexless marriage and cheats on her husband. Lastly she perfectly understood this kindred spirits who are this plethora of horny married men living in sexless marriages. Many a times she listened on local morning radio shows where a man calls the presenter to bad mouth their wife and tell the world of his pathetic marriage.

SHE did not intended to turn to some arrogant radio presenter for advice and air her private matters to the whole world. SHE intended to change.Be confident, be extremely sexy so SHE could drive men of all ages crazy, teenage boys, their fathers, even their grandfathers. The confidence SHE would exude will definitely be a turn on, SHE did not intend to do shy or timid, SHE knew what she wanted and was not afraid to go and claim it. The fact that SHE was married was in itself a huge turn on not only for her but for the men too. SHE knew when a man has sex with another man’s woman, its an ego caressing experience for them, they feel powerful. It's almost caveman mentality.

To cut a long story short, SHE went for it and her affairs have salvaged her self- esteem. SHE can't say the same for her marriage, which is an empty shell. The only good thing about it are her two sons and the assured financial security.

reality check......hope springs enternal.....

Her 40th birthday came and went and the past years have been traumatic, illuminating, exciting, scary, wonderful, and simply amazing for SHE. She has found love and lost it. SHE has made amazing connections and met interesting people. She has had better sex, and felt better about herself than ever before. But SHE still feels empty somewhere inside her, there is this nagging feeling of regret, of feeling like she has failed somehow, SHE has failed her maker who created the institution of marriage and meant it to be a holy and beautiful experience for his people. SHE sometimes feels she has failed her husband , SHE is sure he is faithful, SHE was once madly in love with him and he with her.SHE still misses the old times when her heart would beat only for him . When they couldnt get our hands off each other.It seemed like another lifetime. Maybe, just maybe, things will change.....SHE still hopes..but that hope grows fainter and fainter everyday. But however small, it is still there...