The Reverine Savior

Uncertainties

Obange Donmax once again lowered his head for the newspaper. After further scrutiny, he handed it back to Olivia and thanked her. She had intended to invite him for breakfast, after which she would easily lure him into her boudoir and share out her piece of mind with him.

 Her bounteous nature had impressed Obange Donmax but he was not going to fall into her trap now, not just this soon. He once again turned down the offer and headed for the cafeteria giving an excuse that he was to attend a colloquium an hour from then thus dodging the trap tenaciously a second time.

Olivia descended down the stairs back for her apartments as Obange Donmax headed for the shower. After bathing, he took a jotter and strode towards the hall where they were to have an inaugural meeting with the Kenyan consul in Cuba before finalizing with the registry to feed his details into the system. 

Irrespective of the heroic deeds revolving around him, he remained calm and reserved without getting possessed with unnecessary pride. Just as Jesus who, when his mother asked him to offer a hand of help at the wedding before changing water to wine, he answered Mary his mother that, “Woman my time is yet to come.” So Obange knew that his time for publicity was yet to come so he kept calm by dismissing unnecessary braggadocio.

He strode along the tidy path leading to the Piccadilly Circus hall. One thing however amused him; every white seemed to be doppelganger to the other. He frequently mistook one person for another.

He quietly sat at the rare seat of the room pondering about his academic journey and what he really wanted with his life, the sort of legacy he would have wished to leave behind, the sort of eulogy he could love to hear in burial if those who die listens. These three themes marked the fundamentals of his living and there was no one going to work them for him apart from him himself. 

A painful feeling triggered from within him. Lights were on in the room but he felt as though he was engulfed in darkness, and truly he was experiencing mental blackout. Other people were cheerful and chanted but he gave them a passive ear. He was convinced beyond doubt that unless he stood in the gap to bring justice, then nobody would do it on his behalf. Initially he had learnt that Africans were predominantly socialists, from which hell did this issue of individualism nicknamed as capitalism come from? Colonizers played a role yes but how many decades have passed since colonialism was stamped out? We blindly thought that our leaders who fought for decolonization were angels on Earth. Anyway better the demon that you know than the angel you don’t know.

How could less than five hundred individuals control almost three quarters of a country’s wealth as the remaining millions of the citizens shared the remaining quarter? From his research, 80% of the richest Kenyans were politicians. Does it mean that these politicians have the most brilliant ideas on wealth acquisition?

 Some got into politics even bare handed to an extent they held private fund raising drives to finance their campaigns yet before they vacate their respective offices they are in the list of millionaires. Something was wrong somewhere which he had to rectify. And for the first time in his entire adulthood, feelings developed within his heart. He felt for Kenyans and especially for the third class that worked tirelessly for their country but got very minimal in reciprocation for their taxes and labor.

Irrespective of the tardiness that it would take to institute the changes, he had hopes that one day which was still indefinite; he was going to accomplish the reason for his living. 

He had secured a government scholarship and definitely he was to learn with taxpayers’ money. The bourgeoisies were not exempted as they had the power to influence yet they sat in their comfort zones and probably even had a hand in the political mischief. Still engrossed in his thoughts, he was interrupted by an announcement bringing the room to order for the Kenyan representative in Cuba had arrived. He rose up from his seat having nicknamed himself Obange The Riverine Savior. He had spent his entire lifetime by River Yala thus he saw to the title appropriate and was going to use the very title for campaigning.

His country man gave an elaborate speech cutting across all the expected codes of conduct and rules of Cuba which may be different from Kenyan. Obange Donmax made an appointment with the speaker after the speech. They discussed so many issues on how best they could initiate reforms for the benefit of all their countrymen and women, so that they feel valued and get the best out of their toil of paying tax. 

Constitutional amendments featured on their talks as the most effective and efficient way to go through the dark jungle of economic imbalance among citizens. It made some sense but one thing offered a barrier. If there was one thing he hated was politics. But this meant that he had to be a public figure so as to become influential. He was out to do anything whatsoever it takes as long as his ideas were implemented. They parted ways having deeply discussed and understood each other at the same degree. He had a new resolution, as soon as he removed his PhD mortarboard from his head, his political ambitions would kickoff. Reason for this being, he wanted to use politics as a sharp knife to cut the viscous cycle of poverty in which the poor Kenyans had been entangled for a long time.

PART TWO

UNCERTAINIES

Chapter 3

The challenges behind these successes were countless for Obange Donmax. At some point his future was blurred and he was almost losing hope. He actually lost hope only that it was revived at God’s appointed time. Seemingly his predicaments had begun right from his birth.

He was born and grew up along the banks of river Yala. He found himself in that environs following the unplanned marriage situation which his mother had sought due to lack of alternative. His mother by name Silvia Florence, after whom he named his first born child, got married along this river’s banks.

Silvia Florence; Obange’s mother was a perfect beauty during her youthful age. After completion of her secondary school at Ngiya Girls’ High School, she was to join the University of Nairobi and that’s where predicaments would follow her instead of reaping the fruits of education. That night which made her become one of the wretches of the earth remains still a white flash on the dark background of her mind. 

She vividly recalls that she never had supper for that night. Ashamed of frequent borrowing, she kept to her room. Time seemed constant as it happens always when one is on an empty stomach. An idea struck her mind. She decided to take a stroll at least it would make the time pass much faster before she disappeared under her continental quilt. She was just about to cross the last lane to the campus gate when a parked Prado hooted slightly to signal her.

 The driver lowered the window and spoke from inside “kindly assist me locate the way to continental hotel I’ll pay your back fare, am not conversant with the town.” Without a second thought, she decided to offer her help, hoping to walk for some distance on her way back so that she could even save twenty shillings for supper.

She calmly sat beside him as he drove off from where he had parked the car. They familiarized themselves with each other as the jam hindered their speeding, which was just a usual thing for a first timers’ meeting. He proved generous and even invited her to dine with him at the hotel as a way of appreciating her help. If only she knew that that was the day her dreams were going to be turned upside-down, she would not have set foot into that hotel and even into the car. That was the genesis of her long-life destitute state.

A lapis lazuli hung and shone brightly tied around onto the rear-view mirror. This man was one with a title to hang such precious items in his expensive car.

At last he formally introduced his real identity to her while still caught up in the jam. 

“Am Othos, a Member of parliament for Bongomaji Constituency, and you?”

“Am Silvia Florence a second year student at the University of Nairobi, a journalism trainee.”

“Nice name and pleasure having your company hope you shall have a fabulous evening as we dine.” He remarked as they ascended on the stairs of the continental hotel.

He had not clearly seen her face but her shape had impressed him by the campus gate. His heart leapt when he visualized her sparkling face in the hotel’s light as they settled on their reserved seats at the corner of the hotel. Seemingly Othos was a regular attendant of the hotel for he was quickly served even without making an order on what they were to take. Sadly enough, he was not lost but was simply on his usual search for campus girls. 

Foods and drinks were served and one thing led to the other. Othos immersed an aphrodisiac into her drink without her knowledge. She could not recall everything that occurred that night but what she knows is that he gently rubbed her bottom as he kissed her simultaneously. She was unconscious and the very last thing she recalls was the door being banged behind them before they plunged themselves onto the bed of the lodging within the very hotel. That night marked the conception of Obange Donmax and rendered Silvia Florence a depressed woman for her entire life. She regained her consciousness the following morning lying on the very bed alone. Whoever brought her was gone never to be traced. On that bed sheet was blood signifying that her hymen had been ruptured, her virginity was now broken and now it was a thing of the past. She cried bitterly. What she was not sure with was whether she had been impregnated or not.

Being her first time to have such a dehumanizing experience, she knew that her world had crumbled. On a stool in the same hotel, a note was strategically placed in a way that she could not miss to see it as that was next to where her clothes were heaped. The note read;

I sometimes even kill nasty campus girls who think that they should always be driving in posh cars at the expense of our wives. Since you were a virgin, truly I deceived you for it means that you are not one of the “game makers,” therefore your innocence saved you but I don’t regret my deceitful actions and am not going to do it any soon. In case you conceive, go and abort. I’ve left a bunch of cash under that pillow you laid your head on. You were such a nice girl just as I had confessed to you in the vehicle while we were still driving on our way to this hotel. Feel free to contact if you may need any help on 071234567890. 

She sobbed afresh. She headed for the bathroom a devastated young woman. She dressed up and went out of the hotel in tears. Back in the hostel, she neither ate nor attended her lectures for two consecutive days. Weird thoughts flashed through her mind. She knew so well that abortion was the last thing she could think of; killing an innocent life was the greatest sin. She would rather kill her own self instead of killing the baby while she herself continued to live. She was exhausted, frustrated and in agony. She decided to go confirm whether or not she was pregnant and the next course of action she was going to pursue and indeed she was.

As usual at times of distress, she thought of her bible. She read the prodigal son’s story. The verses sank into her soul like bitter herbs as she made sense of them. She was however convinced that she was better off compared to the prodigal son for she herself never squandered her parents’ wealth as did the prodigal son, and even if she could have such intentions, they owned nothing to be eyed.

 She resolved within herself to pack all that belonged to her and go back home. She was going to face the brutality of life, the scorning of villagers and the shame that will always accompany her for her entire life. One question however remained unanswered to her as she packed, and that was whether her dad was going to understand her explanation and just entertain the fault.

She handed back to the administration all that belonged to them which was under her custody and left for the bus stop. If she was pardoned of her mistake then probably she was going to continue with her education upon delivery but for abortion, she dismissed the idea. She was now treading on a very slippery ground with regard to her future ambitions. She had very minimal optimism about having a second chance in life.

Fear gripped her as she alighted from the vehicle having reached the final bus stage. Her early riser dad was already milking their two cows when she approached the main gate. He was alarmed. It was not usual for his daughter to pay them such a prompt visit without notifying them in advance. Her heart raced as she dragged her suitcase along with her signifying that she had not come for a short while but for couples of days thus alternative cloths would prove worthwhile. Her dad perceived that there was no more charades and that something awful lingered in the darkness. 

Her mother received her with open arms and embraced. For the first time in the last three days since she walked out of that hotel, she found the real motherly consolation. Her tear glands broke loose. She cried nonstop. Axiomatically, something was wrong but could she structure a sensible sentence and express herself? She spoke in tears but her vocals remained unloosened. The father excused the two women to discuss their womanly issues on their own as he attended to outdoor duties. The down casting talk ended quite well between her and the mother but would the father understand? This is what now troubled the duo.

Before she had joined the campus her father had sternly warned her saying, “I hope you are a witness as I sell my bull to finance your education, reciprocate an achievement whose value is much higher than the bull sold for that’s what development is all about. Restrain from admiring men’s zip. It might be the root cause of your downfall.” He was brief and clear in his message. That statement had always made her agoraphobic upon its reflection. She mostly kept to herself lest friends dragged her to contradict her father’s warning. But now here she was, expectant by default. Warm tears freely descended her cheeks at the thought of it all. She nervously waited for her prosecution. She was afraid of disclosing this directly to her dad for the fear of immediate striking and her mum saved her this by delivering the sad news to him on her behalf.

That very evening marked the turning point of her entire life. Just as she had earlier guessed, her dad never took in the message in grace; she was summoned by her father for a private talk under the shade of a tree at the centre of their compound.

“It is both good and bad daughter that you are pregnant. It is good in the essence that not every womb is able to conceive therefore you may be exempted from the list of barren women. It is however unfortunate that you defied the advice I gave of not admiring the object behind a man’s zip. I’ve told you time immemorial that you may supersede me in the class knowledge but there is no single day that you will be wiser than me. Now, together with all knowledge can you visualize the sort of shame you have heaped both on you and on us your parents? 

Now get me right,” he raised his voice, “Am married to your mother only who is for now approaching menopause. Therefore, we are not expecting any other child. The only pregnant woman I may expect to see within my compound are your sister[s]-in-law. In a nut shell, am not expecting you here with that your soon to bulge stomach that you are pregnant. Please take your leave out of this compound and advice the father of your child to- be that he can stay with his dowry. I’ve done without them and still I will do. Silvia Florence take leave my presence and let’s meet either in hell or in heaven if we both keep the faith!” With that last sentence, he shot up and hurriedly left the meeting place for the house leaving his daughter seated still on a stool.

Her long experience in the homestead had always made her know that her father spoke once and what followed was a thorough beating. She had to leave the compound with an immediate effect before the already worse situation turned to worst. She took her suitcase which she had not interfered with since her arrival in the morning and left for a destination that even she personally did not know.

 On her way to the main road, she recalled of her sister who had been married to the shores of River Yala. This sister of hers was a widow aged thirty two and resolved never to marry again. Reason behind her decision is however best known by herself. She was a fish- monger by occupation.

Silvia Florence reached her doorstep at half past eight. She had put all her eggs in a single tray and she had toppled down therefore she had to beg for mercy. Only death could veil her shame, the depression, but she was going be laid to rest the natural way, she had to face life head-on. She opened the pages of her agony unto her sister who somehow shared in her predicament but could not just sustain her due to her meager earnings. They had to act swiftly before the situation could get out of hand. 

Silvia Florence’s sister had a drunkard high school teacher who was her brother-in-law. Neither once nor twice did this particular brother-in-law of hers get demoted for getting involved with school girls trusted under his care. He had a weakness for any one in a skirt. A trap was therefore laid for him by the two ladies. He was invited for a dinner after which Silvia Florence’s cunningly left the room leaving a leopard and a sheep in the same den. As expected he never failed to salivate for her. He invited her to his house and to his disbelief, she never objected. That night they shared the same blanket and a week later, Silvia Florence deceitfully gave him the responsibility of fathering an already growing embryo in her womb. He had to be accountable and marry her. If there is anything that for long time he had dodged was marriage but now it caught up with him and he had no alternative but to submit. His name was Obange Otoyo, a name that Obange junior [Donmax] would carry all his life.

Obange Otoyo got fond of his family but as the say goes, “character doesn’t change.” He kept looking for fresh fields on which to graze, a situation that not only made the family penniless a week after he received his salary but also exposed him and his wife to the risk of HIV/AIDS and other STIs. She tried to bring up a pious family but her husband proved implacable. And this marks the theory behind the birth and bringing up of Obange Donmax.

Five years in marriage down the line, something unfortunate struck the family after Silvia Florence delivered her second born son who was now officially her husband’s. The husband became libertine. He threw the little morality which had remained in him to the wind. He was now an official and well-known womanizer. He no more cared for his family. This followed his expulsion from Teachers’ Service Commission for failure to rectify his mistakes irrespective of the numerous warnings he received from the commission. 

For the fear of being mortified by the society and the family, he resolved for a reckless life that as predicted earlier made him contract the HIV/Aids and consequently died after two years. Painfully, the wife contracted the disease as well but she followed the right channel of taking ARVs and survived for three more years after the husband. One thing which outraged Obange Donmax and swore never to forgive his mother’s husband was the ignorance that made his angel innocent brother to be born positive due to irresponsibility. The brother was bearing a cross he never deserved at all.

Life became even more unbearable after their dad was laid six feet underground. He died indebted to several people who were never willing to rub off the debts thus the family was made responsible. They sold most the valuables they housed to settle the debts and they remained almost with nothing to plough their hope on. A derisory family they were.

 Obange Donmax grew up a bitter child. From childhood, he developed an idea that social reforms were mandatory. One had to see each as equally important however large the financial gap widened. If only this particular bridge could be narrowed and if possible be totally done away with, the world would be favorable for the entire human race. He sympathized with his mother as she struggled day in day out with her deteriorating health as the wider society stood afar and watched. If only individualism could exist in theory and not practical, surely they would have come to improve the state of their existence. They lived a life of desultory.

One evening after school, Obange Donmax went downstream to fetch water. He sat on a rock gazing at the clear water streaming besides the rock onto which he sat. This particular position was always his favorite to take his rest. He marveled at the power of nature as the place offered him a peaceful mind and at least made him forget the hardships which always accompanied him wherever he went. Gently the river flowed indefinitely. Fish darted here and there and dragonflies did their acrobatics. They were free creatures. Free from social discrimination, free from economic disparity. None was richer than the other so as to despise the rest because of his/her achievement. They all lived under the grace of God.

Day after the other nothing positive seemed to materialize for the family. No one ever came to share with them even the scripture including the church ministers for automatically tithe was not expected from them. They learnt this and in reciprocation, they never bothered anyone. They got contented with their seclusion and negligence. It became too much for the young man Obange Donmax that he attempted suicide only that he never succeeded. He preferred to sing with angels and archangels in heaven if he was pardoned of his crime by Christ the judge rather than to see his family suffer for his entire life.

His mother had severally warned him that the colored coat of a hybrid maize seed is poisonous and should never be consumed. For the first time he attempted to defy his mother’s instruction. That morning he went together with the ailing mum to plant some hybrid seeds leaving the little brother still asleep. They had done some good work when his little brother woke up and started to wail form their grass-thatched house. He was summoned to bring him to the garden. He felt enchanted. His time to die had come as all his hand was now red for he was planting and in the process the coating remained on his hand. 

Leaving his mum still toiling, he went for the kid but before that, straight to kitchen he headed. The previous night they had taken boiled cassava and some were preserved for lunch. He took two pieces and rubbed them thoroughly against his red palms until they were hot red and swallowed them then went for the baby. He patiently waited for his death but nothing happened to him, not even a stomach-ache. If only he knew that gladiator could grant the wish in seconds and that there was one under their bed for destroying ant hills, he would have swallowed it down his throat.

This day however marked the beginning of his mother’s end. That evening he sat on the verandah as his mum had some bed rest following a long day’s toil. She suddenly gave out a sharp wail. Obange Donmax dashed into the house alarmed. His mother lay on the bed prostrate, shivering and with her eyelids closed. For the first time he rushed to the neighbor to seek help whatsoever it will take. This was too much for a twelve year old to handle.

 The neighbor proved helpful and organized for means through which she was driven to a hospital. She was diagnosed with encephalopathy. She was admitted for a week and discharged due to rising hospital bills. While hospitalized, she got fond of a nurse; Jane Whitney was her name, who frequently checked on her. They became good friends within three days and on the fourth day, Silvia Florence entrusted her with her private and personal affair. She asked her to create an email for her little son Obange then to do her as certain email which had the following outlook.

To: othosleopold@yahoo.com

From:silviaflorence@gmail.com

Cc:janewhiteney@hotmail.com

Bc:obangedonmax@gmail.com

Date: 30th Jan 2019

Subject

I’m dying a desolate woman because of you jackal. You tampered with my success yet you confessed with your lips that you were an M.P. Maybe through my journalism I would have exposed your injustices to the public but you cut short my dreams. In total desolation I will be laid to rest. My kids won’t have anything to inherit. They have led an appalling lifestyle all this long.

 You fool impregnated me at the continental hotel after immersing an aphrodisiac into my drink. You further wrote me a note encouraging me to abort. Be it known to you that I’m not a murderer as you confessed on the same note that you do to campus girls. In good faith I forgive you to enable me receive the heavenly glory. But may God revenge on my behalf.