Dear God, bring the rain and prove everyone wrong
When I went to Hitler's that evening, I was not surprised to find myself the topic of discussion.
What you need to know:
- My brother Pius called and said that my father had asked him to talk to me.
- If Caro thought that I would panic and go support my father, she was wrong.
When we last spoke, I had just finished tilling my three pieces of land in preparation for planting.
But that wasn't the story. The story was that, for the first time, I had only done my part, leaving my father's side untilled.
That was after he failed to show any appreciation for all I do for him, yet he praised Yunia, Pius, Ford and Caro, who never support him in farming, but take away farm produce.
"Mzee is not happy," my brother Pius called to complain and said that my father had asked him to talk to me.
"I just did not wake up and refuse to support dad," I told him. "It is money I don't have."
I went ahead to tell him that I am not the one who actually tilled my farm.
"I called a tractor to come and do it, the same tractor is still available, send money and I will call them," I said.
On hearing this, Pius conveniently changed the topic. I played along.
Things were quiet until Caro, my sister, and Mwisho wa Lami’s Minister for Information, Miscommunication, and Broadcasting Lies, came to know about the story.
"I know teachers are mean, but my brother is the meanest man in the whole world. Who does that?" she would ask anyone she met.
She added that her brother-in-law was also a teacher who was doing so much for him and his parents.
"Huyu wetu pesa ya Headmaster anapeleka wapi? Kukunywa tu!"
If Caro thought that I would panic and go support my father, she was wrong. I was not going to do that.
Interestingly, on the day she left, she carried half a sack of maize, beans, nduma, among other things.
What shocked me was that, about a month ago, my dad came to me and said he needed help to buy more maize.
"What we have will not last until harvests,” he had pleaded.
The same man who had asked that we buy more maize was giving my sister maize.
I ignored all the noise and continued with my plans to plant. I did not have enough money, so I took fertiliser from Maina on credit. Despite the fact that the fertiliser and maize seeds were labelled Kakamega County Government, I did not get them for free. It was, in fact, more expensive than the usual market prices.
As before, I only bought for myself. It would seem my dad had talked to the shopkeeper, for he kept insisting that I take more, wondering if what I was taking was enough for my dad and I.
I called Nyayo to get me a few boys and women so that we could plant. My father must have heard this because the first thing Nyayo said was that they start with my dad's farm. I told him off. The two women I had hired also asked why I was forgetting my father.
The planting was supposed to be on Tuesday the other week. That morning, none of the people contracted appeared.
I needed no calculator to know that they had been dissuaded from coming by my father.
Upset, I immediately went into action. I went to the neighbouring village and managed to get three men and two women who came the next day.
I had asked for permission from school and I spent the day on the farm. My father passed by at some point. I tried to ignore him for the entire period, but it reached a point where I could not ignore him.
"So unafikiri mimi nitapanda lini?" he asked me, and I told him God will provide. He wanted to join and help, but I told him we were enough.
When I went to Hitler's that evening, I was not surprised to find myself the topic of discussion.
"How do you, as a man, do things forgetting your parents?" wondered Rasto. "It is very bad."
Nyayo, who had refused to come to help me plant, arrived. I asked him why he had not turned up.
“In our culture, no man can plant before their parents do," he said.
I had never heard of that.
"Even if you don't want to help your parents, at least wait for them to finish."
He went on to say that is why he had refused to come. It was all pure lies, for he had many times planted before his parents.
From nowhere, my father appeared. I thought about not buying him a drink but realised how bad it could be if someone else bought him. So I bought him.
As soon as he was a little tipsy, he started admonishing me, the one who had brought him a pick-up of Hitler's famed drink.
Rasto, Nyayo, and all supported him, saying that I was supposed to support him. It was very bad; they said.
My father had educated me, and even allocated me the farm that I was now bragging with.
"For planting without seeking my help, Dre will see!" My dad said later on.
He seemed to be drunk, and all we wanted was to get him home. Nyayo called it a curse and tried to talk to my father to un-curse me, but my father, though drunk, would hear none of it.
"Atajua!" he repeatedly said.
Well, a week later, I haven't seen anything yet. And that includes rain. Ladies and gentlemen, it hasn't rained since that day, and I am getting worried.
Some people will attribute this to Mzee's curse, but the lack of rain has affected everyone in Mwisho Lami. Did everyone else also not support their parents?
I was shocked last Friday when a villager I will not name came and asked me to open the skies for rain. I asked how, and he said the answer is simple: till my father's farm and help him plant.
I told him off and asked him to go help my father as he seemed to care more for him than I did.
Dear God, please bring the rain. And if indeed, I am being punished for not helping my father, I ask you to make it rain everywhere else, except my farm.
