Why my father is on his own on matters farming this season!
My father called me complaining that the tractor man was leaving his side, but I told him I was busy in class.
What you need to know:
- After many false starts, we finally met last October, and we spent a whole Saturday at my father’s home.
- My father was the last to speak. He thanked everyone for sacrificing time and money to travel home.
For a long time, my sister Yunia had always been asking that we meet as a family.
“The last time we all met was during Mum’s funeral,” she would write on the family WhatsApp group.
“Our children should know each other,” added my sister Caro, saying that unless we did that, “they will meet each other in college and fall in love. Riswa!”
After many false starts, we finally met last October, and we spent a whole Saturday at my father’s home.
Ford did come with all his children but didn’t bring his wife Rumona. It was an amazing day: the women cooking and cleaning, children playing, eating and crying, the men drinking and eating.
The highlight of the day was the introductions - Pius’s kids spoke English of the nose and French, Ford’s spoke a funny type of Kiswahili that was more of ordering than anything else, Caro’s children spoke borrowed English mixed with freshly imported Kiswahili.
As for me and Yunia, our children mixed English, Kiswahili, and mother tongue so seamlessly.
My father was the last to speak. He thanked everyone for sacrificing time and money to travel home. He also appreciated the money and gifts they had given him over the years.
Pius had given him Sh3,000 the last time he visited and had bought him a suit and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Ford had given him Sh1,500 and heavy-duty socks that remained intact for years.
Yunia gave him Sh700 the last time she visited; Caro had brought him a Kaunda suit. He also mentioned things Pius and Ford’s wives had done for him, without forgetting Fiolina and also what Yunia and Caro’s husband had done to him.
Mentioned in glowing terms
Well, everyone was mentioned in glowing terms – except me. He only thanked me for being there, never mentioning anything I had given him. I was shocked.
But let’s spare a moment and analyse their so-called giving. Whenever they visit, they take away more than they bring.
Pius’s car is usually so full when it leaves that one time, it couldn’t start as it was overweight. The last time he visited, when he gave the Sh3,000, three chickens were slaughtered for him, and he left with three chickens, a sack of maize, half a sack of beans, full loads of nduma, cassava, potatoes, vegetables, pumpkins, name it.
By the way, the Jack Daniels he brought my dad almost killed him, as he took half a bottle on an empty stomach, and I am the one who rescued him.
Let’s take Ford; the socks he gave him were Prison socks – he never spent a coin on them. He usually carries maize, beans, nduma, and other things, yet, like Pius, he has never contributed anything to the farming activities. I always do it single-handedly.
Yunia is another one. Yes, she would come with Sh1,000 but would carry more than that. On the days of leaving, two bodabodas are usually dispatched just to ferry things. Unlike my other siblings who wait to get gifted by my father, Yunia, just takes.
As for Caro, Mwisho wa Lami’s Minister for Miscommunication, Disinformation, and Broadcasting Lies, she would arrive, give my father Sh500, borrow Sh1,000 during her stay, and still would not have fare back.
Never mind she would have walked when coming. Leave alone the loads she would be carrying back.
It is indeed true that the maximum money I have ever given my father is Sh500 – but I give small amounts so frequently! I may have never bought him a Jack Daniels, but I frequently pay for him at Hitler’s. I didn’t give much money when he was sick, but I spent time with him in the hospital.
Every year, when I till my farm, I always do it plus his farms; I always buy seeds and take care of the costs of planting, weeding and harvesting. And unlike others, I have never been gifted any chicken or maize or beans.
My revenge came last week
Yes, it is Ford who brought my father a phone, but who sends him airtime?
So it came as a shocker that my father never appreciated what I do for him. I kept my cool that day. And my revenge came last week.
Two weeks ago, I hired Nyayo and some boys to clean up the farms ahead of tilling. Strictly my side.
On Monday, I paid for a tractor to come till, only tilling my part of the farms. My father called me complaining that the tractor man was leaving his side, but I told him I was busy in class.
“What kind of son is this who only tills his side?” he asked when he finally met me on Thursday.
I told him the economy was bad, and I had no money.
“Have you ever seen me carry even one gorogoro of maize?” I asked him.
“Those people don’t stay here; they don’t know what we go through. It is only you who knows,” he pleaded.
“Call them now,” I said, and then left.
To my siblings Yunia, Pius, Ford and Caro, if you expect to carry maize, beans, nduma, potatoes, cassava, and others when you visit, please send Mzee money. Sibanduki!
