SUNSHINE IS FAR AWAY,RAIN CLOUDS LINGER ON

CHAPTER ONE

Troubles may come,                                 

The sorrows may increase,                      

But oh no, I'm not giving up.                  

⁠•⁠ Kerubo's pov •⁠
As far as I knew I was just a normal girl living in a small village in the present day Nyamagwa,Kisii,Kenya. The chilly morning cold mist hung over Nyamagwa covering the land like a wet and steamy blanket. Most people were buried in their tiny huts due to the cold but not me. I was busy helping my baba ( grandmother) in preparing a local dish amatoke ( boiled bananas) outside our hut.
Suddenly a loud wail rented the air followed by a few cuss words. I immediately knew it was my father. My devoted mother rushed to his aid with her heart in her hand fearing the worst for my father only to find out that he was caught in the hand-crafted thorn fence. As she got closer the unmistakable stench of waragi filled her nostrils. (Waragi is a liquor of some sort which was brought by the British from Uganda which was made from a special type of banana e.g enguli and kisubi.) She tried her best but the stench was unbearable. She instinctively covered her nostrils and he took that personally.

" YOU ARE MAKING A MOCKERY OUT OF ME AREN'T YOU? ARE YOU SUGGESTING I SMELL?" With those few words he sent a slap to her face but my mother being a mother still helped him. She took him to the house and went to the farm with my grandmother to look for herbs to heal his wounds. My father was greedy, cunning and not the brightest. He married my mother by forcefully have sex with her in order to trap her with the baby. Unfortunately for her she lost the baby but it was too late, my father had already paid half of the bride price.
He came staggering outside, following the sweet aroma of food. "What are you cooking omwana?" He asked. "Amato-" was what I managed to get out before he rudely interrupted "Open the lid"he said as he glared at me. I reluctantly followed his orders. He walked closer to the pot and I warned him it's hot but to no avail. I , already aware of his drunken state, decided to keep quiet he should learn his lesson afterall. As the kiswahili proverb goes 'Mtoto akililia wembe mpe.' With no hesitation he picked up the pot and he soon regretted it. As fast as it was in his hand was as fast as it came out.

He dropped the pot on me but I managed to dodge it but as it impacted the ground hot liquid soup was splashed on my arm. I was writhing in pain but my father gave me a stern look. I kept quiet but I was in so much pain that I didn't realize my mother and grandmother's arrival. I went to the medicine pot and applied whatever was in the pot.
As I was applying it I heard my parents arguing. The only thing I could make out was my father shouting 'she is not my child' , which was weird because I had a birth mark in the same spot as his.

I stealthily made my way into the living room but my father saw me and turned his attention to me. "LEAVE THIS HOUSE!" he shouted. I could tell there was a hint of pain in his voice but it was overpowered by anger. His eyes were tearing but the cause was unknown. In his red eyes there was sadness I almost felt sorry but in a split second it disappeared and I found myself lost in them, surrounded by hate and rage.I left with a heavy heart knowing I left my mother in the hands of an abuser.

I saw the helper Okwani ( a name meaning talks a lot) herding the cows to the grazing area next to River Gucha. I hurriedly followed along making sure to call out for our dog Esimba to follow along. About 3 km away you could hear the beautiful sound of the river. It was captivating, riveting,mesmerizing,enchanting, enthralling, engrossing..... words can't describe that sound. I felt a feeling of comfort in that sound.
Once we were at the river side, we let the cows graze freely and drink the water of the river. We dipped our feet into R.Gucha and the feeling of cold water engulfing your feet was priceless. Okwani living up to his name started blabbing on about how this land was not safe and how it housed dangerous animals and how he was so brave and blah.. blah...blah.. That man could talk forever. Out of the corner of my eye I saw some movement. Fear gripped my heart. We're the stories Okwani saying true? I tried telling him but he was hardheaded.

With precaution I wandered off with Esimba to persue what had caught my attention. I looked here and there but nothing. That was until I heard something behind me. I snapped my neck to see the culprit and there before my eyes were a pair of blue icy eyes staring right into mine . I remember them very vividly, they were ocean strong swimming with sun-lit currents, thousand hues of blue and a small touch of hazel radiating in softly swooping arcs.It was a boy. A boy who looked around my age.

We stood there our eyes piercing into each other's for what felt like forever when it dawned on me. I had been looking at a white man directly in the eye. That was a big taboo and anyone doing so would be punished. I learned that from my mother. I tried apologizing but fear blocked my throat.He broke the silence by asking " What's your name?"
My mother had also taught me some English so I understood with ease but now the problem was talking.

"K..ker..ker-ub-ubo" was what came tumbling out of my mouth. " Do you only have one name,Kerubo?" "My name is Kerubo Nya...." was what I managed to shrub before we heard some men shouting "WILLIAM! WILLIAM!" The dog started barking which gave away our location.
Okwani heard the shouts and the barking and rushed to get me but I stood perplexed to the ground in awe of the foreigner in front of me. Sadly, the men found us. It turned out they were British soldiers. I deeply regretted staying. What was going to happen to me? What would they do to Okwani? My questions were about to be answered.

One of them took the boy which I presumed his name was William away while the another grabbed Okwani by the neck. They assumed the worst. Thinking we kidnapped William for ritual practices as it was very common in this area of kisii for people to practice witchcraft. I tried explaining with the little English I knew that this was a misunderstanding but my attempts bore no fruit. They started beating him. Blood was gushing out of his wounds he was shrieking in pain and agony. I couldn't help but blame myself. I was the reason for this. I wanted to say something but words could not be formed in my mouth as it was left agape by the grim scene infront of my eyes. Okwani was going in and out of consciousness. One of them grabbed me but let me go maybe because he felt a little pity for me. On the other hand Okwani was dragged to wherever they were going.

It felt like a nuclear bomb had been dropped in the centre of my existence. I now had to tell my father the story. I mustered up all my courage and ran home, suppressing the tears from falling. I explained the quagmire to my parents. BIG MISTAKE. I was beaten black and blue. My father if I should even call him that , wasn't even mad about Okwani, he was mad that I had left his cows. He didn't even care about neither my nor Okwani's wellbeing just the cows. I was intsructed to leave the house and never come back till I found all 41 of them.

       I ran out of that hell hole of a home with tears cascading down my tomato-shaped cheeks forming a wonderful number eleven on my face. By the time I reached there some of the cows had already crossed the river. I got my clothes wet, almost drowned only to get 40 out of the 41. When my father counted then he was beyond outraged he tried to beat me but my mother intervened.

Suddenly flashbacks from the previous incidents flooded my memory. I couldn't move . Even if I could move what help would I be? He beat her so bad until she didn't look human anymore. Her whole face had been crushed, blood gushing out of everywhere. The scene was too much I blacked out.

I woke up a few seconds later with my father walking towards me. I stood up and ran as fast as my feeble legs could carry me. I ran to my neighbors house. Momanyi. He was a good listener, a great comforter, a kind ,generous , exceptional, bountiful, liberal man. My best friend. He also didn't lack in the handsome department. He wasn't ugly he was actually far from that.He was a few years older than me. You're literal definition of tall, dark and handsome .
He took one look at me and he told his aunt my predicament and with and open heart she allowed me to stay over. I slept on the living room floor that night. Ruminating about if things between my family and I would change, I fell asleep not knowing what was in stored for me next...

Thank you so much for reading this story 💕
It's not over yet.
Please vote for this story by clicking the star 👇