“My life sounds like a movie, even to me. It is a movie in that I am the character but I do not know its director nor its producer. So, as I prepare to celebrate my 32nd birthday, I have gathered the courage to write it down in a national newspaper with the hope that this courage will help me find people who can help me unravel this movie.
My name is Mary Fatuma, I grew up in a big family—a children's home, to be precise—and yes, I know many people who also know me. Some have taken care of me as a child and paid my school fees. Others have been my classmates and teachers at different times. However, I am that person that not even a reggae artist seems to be aware of her existence on an island. I have no blood family that I know of, not any of my parents or siblings if they do exist.
I have come to learn from my foster family that an unidentified watchman picked me up where I had been dumped in trash and took me to a Nairobi hospital. I have not seen any document about this since it’s been decades and I am told that the documents are not available. While still in this hospital, a couple that planned to adopt me would visit me often, but I would learn, years later, that the long adoption process discouraged them, and they eventually gave up. When I was released from hospital, a children’s home took me in, even though the couple continued to visit me.
I am still in contact with the couple, but they too have no information regarding any of my relatives. They currently live in North Carolina, in the US.
When I was young, I assumed that they were my parents, but when I was around 12 years old, I started questioning this belief because I could see some people come for their children who I grew up with at the children's home. Unfortunately, for me, people would refer to those who came to visit me as “wazungu”, there was nothing like terms such as sister, mother, or any relative title to it. I got curious, I wanted to know who those “wazungu” people were to me.
That is when I was told that they had tried to adopt me but the long adoption process made it hard and so we have just remained friends.
I was abandoned without any identity, at least from the information I have been told over the years when I ask. I always see myself different from people I associate with and this keeps causing me a lot of confusion because I have not found anyone to provide me with the answers I seek. I am a Kenyan, as indicated in my birth certificate and Identity Card, but when I walk on the streets, people call me Ethiopian, and that happens a lot, I guess it’s because of my hair type. However, my nationality is not a problem to me, my concern is who my relatives are. I am looking for them because missing them in my life denies me the opportunity to mature despite being in my thirties.
I am scared of many things in life, and that includes being in a romantic relationship. I keep asking myself, what if the person I fall in love with turns out to be my relative? I am also afraid that should I become a mother, I might end up abandoning my child the same way my parents abandoned me.
I am so scared that should I get a child and die while delivering because maybe my mother died after giving birth to me by the roadside, then who will take care of my child because I do not have anyone? If I had a mum, then I could have said that there is a relative who can take care of my child should I die. As it is now, I don’t have the mentality of being a parent, maybe that could change once I find my parents or relatives.
In 2019, I gained the courage and confidence I had lacked for over 20 years since I left the children's home in Karen and made my way to Kawangware (in the outskirts of the city centre) to start a new life. In my mind, I knew that I would face challenges and different people but I convinced myself that I would always overcome them. I overstayed in the children’s home because I had nowhere to go. It was a tough move because I had no job then. Interestingly, I started a new life two days before Christmas celebrations but was so afraid that I did not even celebrate that festive season. I used to lock myself in the house during the day and only come out at night because I was afraid of people. I was never free with anyone.
Growing up without relatives has denied me love I have not found from anyone. As a result, I have done things I am not passionate about to pass time. I remember when I completed high school, I wanted to pursue a career in music because I have loved music since childhood. However, the people whom I grew up with discouraged me and I ended up choosing catering over music. I completed my course but it is not helping me. I am now a caregiver and I believe I am passionate about it. I started by volunteering and gradually I convinced myself that this was going to be a place where I was going to earn a living and I have worked in this space for more than a year now.
Despite the steps I am taking in my life, I keep wondering why nobody knows my parents or even my relatives. I have a lot of curiosity about my parents. They have not been there but I would still be happy if they came out for me.”
