How I engineered Branton’s return to his mother Catherina!
Last Sunday, I returned home to find more drama.
What you need to know:
- The problem is that Branton doesn't respect the "laugh of my life," Her Majesty Fiolina.
- Fiolina and Branton have never gotten along; let's just say they have a complicated situationship.
If you've been following this page, you'll recall the drama that unfolded last March between Catherina, Branton’s mother, and yours truly. Branton, as you already know, was born 11 months after our last ‘extracurricular activities’ with his mother.
Catherina, the mother, would often pawn Branton off on me during her tough times, only to reclaim him when her fortunes improved. One such instance was when she had an affair with a county official who drove a big car and smelt of corruption. She took Branton to stay with him, promising a better life.
Indeed, she did, taking the boy to an expensive boarding school, buying him fancy clothes and toys, until her man-friend, as she called the county official with a big car and who reeked of corruption, fell out with the county. He lost everything: the job, the big car, the houses, and threw Catherina out.
Catherina would start asking me for money, requesting that I cover Branton’s school fees, which were no small amount – as it was more than University fees, old or new funded! Once I couldn't afford it, the boy became a burden, and his rudeness knew no bounds.
She once wrote to me, "Kujia kijana wako mkora," after I failed to send her Sh19,000 for his fees. Later, she complained that my wife had taught her son bad manners, and the only money she had was gone thanks to the boy's itchy fingers.
I didn't respond, and a week later, she dispatched the boy to Mwisho wa Lami village. We've had Branton since then, experiencing a mix of good and bad times. The problem is that Branton doesn't respect the "laugh of my life," Her Majesty Fiolina. The only reason we keep him was because we also live with Electina and Honda, the daughters of Fiolina's drunken brother Tocla. The two girls don't like me either, nor do they respect me.
Late last year, news reached me that Catherina had landed a big TSC job in Kakamega. She moved from a one-bedroom apartment in Amalemba to a house in an estate in Kakamega whose name I forget. She remembered she had a son named Branton who could keep her company, close the gate, and run errands. She asked me to send Branton her way.
I told her I'd think about it, which later became "Let me see what I can do." I neither thought about it, nor did I see anything to do. When I visited Kakamega late last month, I spent some good time with her at her beautiful home. It was a great house, though not as tastefully finished as my state-of-the-art bungalow that is still the talk of the town in Mwisho wa Lami.
As I was leaving, she asked with a smile, "Utaniletea Branton?" I agreed, but I needed a reason to justify sending him away.
As you know, Fiolina and Branton have never gotten along; let's just say they have a complicated situationship. Branton sees her as the woman who denies him proper access to his parents, while Fiolina sees me in Branton, and we are talking of the not-so-great things – the things that make women call their husbands dogs.
I couldn't just send Branton away without a reason. I had to create one. The first was when I sent him to his grandfather to fetch something early Sunday morning, two weeks ago. It was Branton’s duty to clean the house that day. Fiolina woke up expecting a clean house, but it was a mess. When Branton returned, it was fire and brimstones.
"What do you do in this house other than eat and use the toilet?" she quarrelled the boy. The boy’s cries that I was the one who had sent him to fell on deaf ears, especially since I didn't defend him.
“Even if my husband had sent you, you should have cleaned first!” she said.
The way she called me "my husband" was meant to remind Branton that he wasn't our relative.
Branton would clean the house and do more work, but nothing was enough in Fiolina's house.
Last Sunday, I returned home to find more drama. I had gone to ACK St Monica's as part of my plan to be closer to a polite and civil God, not the noisy, hyper-active one that Apostle Elkana worships. I was still in the calm, cool and collected ACK’s mood when I arrived, but Fiolina was not.
"I am ready to tolerate anything from this boy, but I will not tolerate a thief," she said, accusing him of stealing Sh200 from our bedroom.
"Getting any money from your father is so hard, then you come and steal it!" she shouted, defending and attacking at the same time. I was torn between defending Branton and defending myself. Silence won.
"I swear I have not stepped into your bedroom and I did not touch your money!" Branton pleaded.
“What, Baba Sos left the money on the table when he went to church; we have been here with you. Are you saying Satan came and took the money you thief!”
“I am not a thief you woman! Don’t call me that again, umesikia?” shouted back Branton.
“What did you call me!" she exclaimed, declaring that the boy was persona non grata in the house.
"How can I stay with such a rude boy? Pack your things and leave my house immediately!” she shouted, irate and her body heaving up and down.
I followed Branton as he left, and gave him fare to go to Kakamega to his mother, whom I called. Catherina was happy that I had released her son.
From there, I headed to Hitler's for good times with friends. As I paid using Sh200 I had given Fiolina the previous day and took it from her table before I left for church that morning, I felt proud of how I had orchestrated Branton’s exit to his mother—without harming anyone!
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