I AM YOUR CHILD
My head hurts. My body doesn't feel like it belongs to me anymore. But I should feel okay. He said that I would be okay. That the pain would be there. That it could be a lot but I should be able to bear it because that's the only way I would prove to him that I actually loved him. Do I love him? I'm not so sure! One thing I'm sure of is that he might be telling me the truth. That he is my only way out of my misery. He told me to call him Sam instead of calling him Mr. Chairman like my parents had ordered me to. I guess that means he loves me. He also told me that he would buy my younger sister sanitary towels one Saturday morning, if I accepted to give him a kiss on his cheek. I had to do it for her. I don't want her to sit under the banana plantation like me all day and night simply because she has her period. I don't want her to miss school like me just because of her period. I want her to be like the rich kids at the UPE ( Universal Primary Education) school who are able to carry a potato for lunch, unlike me who can only have one light meal a day. Last Friday evening, Sam passed by our home with a black polythene bag in his hands. He wore a black coat that was nearly brown because of the dusty road. His trousers were a bit too tight. He had grown fatter since the lockdown. He walked to and fro at a distance from our home so that Maama wouldn't see him and ask questions. I picked a jerry can and told Maama that I was going to fetch water and left just fast enough to not hear her complaints on why I was going to fetch water that late. I had to go see my saviour, Sam.
EDITH MUKISA
