Am I to blame for being a child of incest?

Even when their mothers get married, most stepfathers and other adults consider them outcasts. For these children, getting a basic need is a privilege, not a right.

Bad omen

I am a child of incest, if I am to believe this constant and hurting remainder from relatives. To them, I am a bad omen. My mother died when I was six years old and rumours did the rounds that she had Aids and, therefore, I also must have it. No one wanted me. Other children were warned not to come near me lest I give them “my disease”.

Those who disobeyed got a thorough beating, which acted as an example to others who were tempted to commit the same crime. Some would openly tell me, “Do not give us your Aids”.

When I fell ill, nobody bothered to take me to hospital. Some would shamelessly tell me that I was about to die. Interestingly, I was a healthy child, and did not suffer any serious ailment.

However, I was withdrawn, shy, and bitter with everybody, including myself.

When my mother died, my world came to an end. My life was full of torment. An uncle took me in, albeit reluctantly. He and his wife would take turns beating me for any minor mistake I made.

For anything that got lost or misplaced, I was the thief and the consequences were obvious; no food, and a thorough beating. I was overworked without any appreciation.

I would receive orders from everybody, even from children younger than me. From a young age, I learnt to suppress my feelings. This became my armour against the insults and unwarranted beatings that came my way. When I could not bear it any more, I left my uncle’s home, but did not know where to go.

Luckily, my class teacher, who learnt about my predicament, allowed me to stay with him. He even bought me a new pair of uniform.

His kindness uplifted my spirit and I became more positive in life. When the KCPE results of 2001 were released, I was the top pupil in my class but could not raise the fees for secondary education.

Wherever I sought assistance, I was asked to present my parents’ death certificates. At one point, I was so stressed, I contemplated suicide.

Homeless

I have tried everything possible to reconcile with my relatives, but none of them wants anything to do with me. It is my prayer that one of them reads this. They have thwarted every effort I have made to return home.

It is difficult, but I have had to accept my situation. But I am determined to become somebody — I have worked as a herdsboy, a casual labourer at construction sites, hawked food, and tilled farms for money. Name it.

From my savings, I managed to join secondary school in 2007. I did my KCSE in 2011, and scored B+, even though I was out of school more than I was in due to lack of fees.

I was offered admission to Maseno University in 2012, but had to defer since I was unable to raise the required fees.

However, I still believe that I will get my degree, no matter how long it takes.

Given the opportunity, unwanted children are like any other. This discrimination, ridicule, rude stares, and finger-pointing kills the morale of such children.

Some of them end up in the streets because no one, not even their own families, want them.

What kind of future awaits them but a desperate one?