FATES CROSSROADS

CHAPTER 6 : A SECRET UNFOLDS

The vacation was over, and life returned to normal, though in reality, everything was changing. Dad was stepping into a new phase of his life, one that required more responsibility than ever before.

His love for hockey had finally turned into something bigger. He had been offered a position as a head coach for a girls' school hockey team. It was a big deal. Coaching wasn’t like playing—it required leadership, discipline, and patience. It meant being an example, something he wasn’t entirely used to. He was excited, though. We could see it in the way he talked about his team, how he planned their training sessions, how he strategized for their matches.

But that wasn’t the only thing that changed.

Dad made a decision that shocked me—he got Mum a job at his workplace. It was unexpected because Dad had always been a man who liked his freedom. He never liked the idea of being tied down, and yet, here he was, making sure Mum was part of his world in a bigger way.

Mum, on the other hand, took it as a sign of stability. She was happy about it—happy that they were growing together, working together, and building a future together. It felt like, for the first time, things were truly settling into place.

With both of them busy with work, they made another decision: they hired a nanny.

At first, the idea of a stranger in our house didn’t sit well with me. But when she arrived, I couldn’t deny that she was different. She was soft-spoken but firm, fun but responsible, and somehow, in a short time, she made our home feel even more complete.

Our house transformed. It was no longer just a house—it was a home filled with laughter, noise, and endless activity. Lucky, Talia, and I became closer than ever. We had each other’s backs, always finding ways to entertain ourselves.

Weekends became sacred.

On Saturdays, Dad would take us on nature walks. We would walk along the green paths, playing little games, throwing stones into rivers, and collecting random things we found interesting. Lucky was always ahead, running too fast, while Talia and I took our time, laughing at the smallest things.

Sundays were even better.

Ndupawa was our escape. The pool became our second home. We would swim for hours, race each other, splash water, and scream whenever Dad decided to playfully throw us into the deep end. By the time we left, we would be exhausted but happy, our fingers wrinkled from being in the water too long.

But the best part?

Dad’s friends.

He was a social man—his friends visited our home all the time. They would bring their kids, and before we knew it, our house would turn into a mini playground. We played, we fought, we made memories.

Life was perfect.

Until that night.

Dad sat us down in the living room, his expression unreadable.

"I have something to tell you."

His voice was steady, but I noticed the way his fingers tapped against his knee—a nervous habit.

We all turned to him, waiting.

"My mother—your grandmother—is coming to visit."

Silence.

For most kids, the idea of their grandmother visiting would have been exciting. But for us? It was different.

Because we knew something that most kids never had to think about.

Dad’s parents didn’t know about us.

They didn’t know about Mum.

They didn’t know that their son had three children, a whole family in Eldoret.

And now, the secret was about to be revealed.

Dad tried to act normal. He laughed, patted Lucky on the back, and said everything would be fine.

But I wasn’t fooled.

There was something in his eyes. Something unfamiliar. Something terrifying.

It was fear.

My father, the confident, carefree man who never seemed to worry about anything, was afraid.

And that meant one thing.

This visit wasn’t just a simple family reunion.

It was going to change everything.

The Grandmother We Never Knew

Life had settled into a beautiful routine—our home was filled with laughter, weekend outings, and endless adventures with our friends in the neighborhood. But in the background, something was about to shake our world.

Dad had told us his mother was coming.

"Grandma?"

The word felt foreign to us. We had never seen her, never spoken to her, never even heard stories about her. Unlike our friends, who always bragged about their grandparents—how they spoiled them with sweets, money, and bedtime stories—we had nothing to say.

For days, questions swirled in our heads.

"Will she be nice?"

"Will she love us?"

"Does she even want to meet us?"

"Will she tell us folk tales, the kind our friends hear from their shoshos?"

"Will she let us visit her home?"

We imagined everything about her—was she short or tall? Dark-skinned or light? Would she smell of old books and tea leaves like teachers, or of soil and firewood like some grandmothers?

Then, the long-awaited day arrived.

She was traveling from Homa Bay to Eldoret, a journey that took hours. The entire day at school, we were restless, distracted, barely paying attention in class. I kept wondering what she’d say when she saw us for the first time.

By the time we got home, the sun was lazily dipping behind the buildings, casting golden streaks across the sky. We flung the gate open and rushed inside.

And then—we stopped.

Right there, seated on the couch, was a woman we had never seen before.

She wasn’t as old as we had imagined. Her face had lines, but they weren’t deep. Her hands rested gently on her lap, fingers interlocked as if holding something fragile. Her eyes—dark, sharp, and observant—scanned the room as though memorizing everything.

She wasn’t smiling.

We weren’t sure what to do.

Lucky, being the most fearless among us, tilted his head, squinting as if analyzing a puzzle, then blurted out the question on all our minds.

"Is this our grandma?"

Silence.

Dad, who had been standing near the doorway, looked at him, then at Grandma, then back at us. His face carried something unspoken—uncertainty, hesitation.

Then, after a brief pause, he cleared his throat and said,

"Umm… Mom, these are my kids. He's Lucky, she's Dahlia, and she's Talia."

Grandma’s gaze settled on us. Her lips parted slightly, as though tasting the weight of those words. Then, she spoke in Dholuo, her voice slow, measured.

"Three kids?"

It wasn’t just a question—it was disbelief.

A lump formed in my throat. I wasn’t sure if she was happy about our existence or shocked that she had been kept in the dark for this long.

Dad nodded.

Still, she said nothing for a long moment.

Then Dad turned to us and said, "Go change and play outside with the neighbors."

That was a sign.

It meant something serious was about to be discussed—something we weren’t supposed to hear.

I didn’t argue, but as I walked out, I kept looking back, wondering—was she happy to see us, or was this the beginning of something none of us were ready for?

We changed our clothes, but our minds were still in the living room. Something about the way Bumpy had looked at Grandma told me this wasn’t a normal visit. Lucky kept peeking through the hallway, trying to catch a glimpse of their conversation, but Bumpy had made it clear—we weren’t supposed to be there.

We went outside to play, but my mind kept drifting back to Grandma. How had she reacted after we left? Had she raised her voice? Did she demand an explanation? From what I had gathered earlier, she hadn’t even known we existed. That alone was strange to me.

Did this mean Dad had never mentioned us? Never told his family about his life in Eldoret?

The sun started setting, and eventually, we had to go back inside. The atmosphere was different now—more settled but still tense. Grandma sat upright, her eyes scanning each of us as if memorizing our faces. Akosa was in the kitchen, unusually quiet. Bumpy, on the other hand, looked tired, like he had just finished explaining something difficult.

“Come sit,” he finally said. We obeyed.

Grandma studied us for a while before saying, “You are beautiful children.” Her voice was softer now, but I could sense something deeper behind her words. Regret? Disappointment? Shock? I couldn’t tell.

She then turned to Bumpy and spoke in Dholuo, but this time, I was close enough to catch her words.

“You hid them from me for all these years?”

Bumpy sighed. “I wasn’t hiding them, Mom. I just… I wasn’t ready.”

Not ready? I glanced at Lucky and Talia. What did that even mean?

Grandma sighed heavily, then looked at Akosa, who had now joined us. “And you, my daughter,” she said, this time in Swahili, “how have you managed all these years?”

Akosa smiled politely, but I could see the tension in her eyes. “God has been faithful, Mama.”

Grandma nodded slowly, then looked at us again. “I want to know you,” she said. “Tell me about yourselves.”

Lucky, always the confident one, went first. “I’m Lucky. I’m in Grade 4. I love hockey like Dad. I also like video games.”

I followed. “I’m Dahlia. I love reading. I want to be an author.”

Talia smiled shyly. “I’m Talia. I like drawing and coloring.”

Grandma smiled for the first time since she arrived. “Smart children,” she said.

The tension in the room eased slightly, but deep down, I knew things weren’t fully settled. There were still unspoken words, questions left unanswered, and feelings yet to be addressed.

One thing was clear—our lives had just changed.

That night, the house felt different. Bumpy stayed up late talking to Grandma in low tones, and even though I tried not to eavesdrop, my curiosity wouldn’t let me sleep. I crept out of bed and pressed my ear against the door, catching bits and pieces of their conversation.

“…never told us, Bumpy. We thought you were still in school, focused on hockey… How did this happen?”

“I was in school, Ma,” Bumpy said, his voice tired. “But life happened. I met Akosa, and one thing led to another… I couldn’t abandon my family.”

Grandma sighed. “I’m not saying you should have abandoned them, but you should have told us. We are your family too.”

“I know,” Bumpy admitted. “I just didn’t know how.”

I heard Grandma shuffle in her seat. “So, what now? Are you two married?”

There was a long silence. My heart pounded. I had never thought about that. Were Bumpy and Akosa married?

Bumpy finally answered, “No. But we are together. We raise our kids together.”

Grandma exhaled loudly. “Bumpy, a man must do the right thing. If you love her, marry her properly. If not, don’t keep her waiting. She deserves respect.”

I quickly tiptoed back to bed before I could hear any more. My young mind couldn’t fully understand marriage, but I understood one thing—Grandma had come with expectations, and our family might never be the same again.

The Next Morning

The smell of mandazis and tea filled the air when I woke up. Grandma was in the kitchen with Akosa, talking and laughing like old friends. It was strange seeing them together, especially after the tension from last night.