FATES CROSSROADS

FATES CROSSROADS

CHAPTER 1 : THE UNPLANNED BEGINNING

Life always unfolds in ways no

one expects. Before I was born , my life was already shaping into a story of chaos, choices and consequences

My dad ,Bumpy , was just 21 , a university student at Moi full of dreams but reckless with reality .My mum Akosa, was 19 studying at an aviation college , determine to build a future among the clouds .Their love wasn't meant to last - it was a fleeting thing a moment that neither of them would change their lives forever .But then , she got pregnant .

My dad panicked .His first thought ? Deny everything.His second?Run. Homabay was calling a place where no one would demand answers from him .But before he could disappear something stopped him .Maybe it was guilt ,maybe it was responsibility pressing down on his chest .

When my mom’s parents found out, their house became a battlefield. My grandmother cried, my grandfather raged, and my mom stood in the middle of it all, too shocked to fight back. Just when it seemed like everything would fall apart, my grandfather spoke. His voice cut through the anger, steady and unshaken.

“What’s done is done,” he said simply. “Running won’t change anything.”

Then, without another word, he pulled out some money and handed it to my dad. “Take this. If you were man enough to make a child, be man enough to take care of it.”

And just like that, my dad’s fate was sealed. He stayed. Not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice.

And my brother? He was the reason everything changed.

By the time my dad, Bumpy, turned 23, he had already learned that life didn’t wait for anyone to be ready. My older brother, Lucky, was two years old, and my dad was still struggling to balance his responsibilities. He loved his son—at least, I think he did—but love alone wasn’t enough to put food on the table.

Money had always been a problem. My father was still a student at Moi University, juggling coursework with the pressure of providing for a child he hadn’t planned for. My mum, Akosa, was still in aviation college, trying to hold onto her dreams while raising a baby. They were just kids themselves, forced to grow up too fast.

Hockey was the only thing that made my dad feel like himself. He had played since high school, fierce with his strikes. But outside the rink, he was drowning. His escape? Alcohol. The late-night drinking, the clubbing—it became a cycle, a way to forget the weight of fatherhood, even if just for a few hours.

But sometimes, fate hides opportunities in the most unexpected places.

One night, after a long hockey match, he went out drinking, as usual. He sat at the counter of a noisy club, his thoughts clouded by worry and cheap liquor. That’s when he met a man who would change everything. A casual conversation turned into an unexpected offer. A job. Well-paying. Stability—something he hadn’t had in a long time.

Maybe it was luck, or maybe life was finally giving him a break, but for the first time, things seemed to be looking up. The salary was enough for him to move into a two-bedroom house on his own. He no longer had to depend on handouts from my mother’s family or struggle to make ends meet.

But just as he was starting to feel in control, life threw another curveball.

My mom was pregnant. Again.

At 21, my mom should have been thinking about her next flight lesson, her dreams of soaring above the clouds as an aviation professional. Instead, she sat in the small living room of their two-bedroom house, staring at a pregnancy test with trembling hands.

Positive.

Her heart pounded as the reality sank in. She already had Lucky, a two-year-old who barely gave her time to rest. Now, she was going to be a mother again.

Tears welled in her eyes. She wasn’t crying because she didn’t love her children—she did. But she was scared. Scared of what this meant for her future, scared of what people would say. The first pregnancy had already stained her reputation in the eyes of society. Another one, this soon? What would people think?

She imagined the whispers behind her back.

"She ruined her life so young."

"Two kids before 22? She’ll never make it."

"Didn’t she learn from the first mistake?"

The thought of facing her parents again terrified her. The first time, the house had erupted in chaos. Her mother had cried. Her mom had cursed Bumpy's name. The only thing that stopped them from throwing him out was her dad, who had simply said, “What’s done is done.”

But would they be so forgiving this time?

Then there was Bumpy.

When she finally told him, she searched his face for a reaction—panic, anger, regret. Instead, he let out a long breath and ran a hand down his face.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said.

Her chest tightened. He said it so easily, like the weight of this wasn’t crushing her. Like it wasn’t keeping her up at night.

“Bumpy,” she whispered, her voice breaking, “I’m 21. I have a child. I’m in school. I—”

He took her hands in his, squeezing them gently. “I know,” he said, softer this time. “But we’ll figure it out. I have a job now. We have a house. We’ll be fine.”

She wanted to believe him. She really did. But deep down, she knew that no amount of money could take away the fear inside her.

And then, there was the biggest secret of all—one that neither of them dared to talk about.

Bumpy’s parents had no idea.

Back in Homa Bay, they still thought of their son as a young, ambitious university student. They had no clue that in Eldoret, he had a child. No clue that their son had a woman living with him, now pregnant again. He never spoke about it, never even hinted at the truth.

Akosa often wondered if they would ever find out. Would Bumpy ever tell them? Or was he planning to keep his family hidden forever?

The months passed, and Akosa’s belly grew, her fears settling into quiet acceptance. She had no choice but to move forward.

Then came the day she went into labor.

The labor was nothing like the first time. With Lucky, my mother had known what to expect—the sharp contractions, the unbearable hours of waiting, the final moments of agony before she held her child. But this? This was different.

It had started as a dull ache in her lower back, something she ignored at first. She had spent the entire morning tidying up, folding Lucky’s tiny clothes, wiping down surfaces that were already clean. Anything to keep her mind occupied, to keep herself from thinking too much about what was coming.

Then the pain hit.

Hard.

A sharp, twisting sensation gripped her abdomen, stealing the breath from her lungs. She doubled over, clutching her belly as fear clawed its way up her throat. She wasn’t ready. Not yet.

Bumpy was at work. There was no one to drive her to the hospital. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone, dialing the neighbor’s number with frantic fingers.

“P...l....ease… take me to the hospp...i...tal,” she gasped, barely able to speak through the pain.

By the time she arrived, sweat soaked her clothes, and her vision blurred at the edges. The nurses rushed her into the maternity ward, their voices blending into a distant hum. The room smelled of antiseptic, the walls too white, too bright.

She gritted her teeth as another contraction tore through her.

“Almost there,” a nurse assured her. “Just breathe.”

Easy for them to say.

The hours dragged on. She had lost all sense of time, her body trembling, her heartbeat loud in her ears. The pain was unbearable now, worse than anything she remembered. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

Then, the doctor’s voice cut through the haze.

“Akosa, you’re having twins.”

Everything stopped.

She barely had the strength to process the words.

“Twins?” she croaked, her throat raw from screaming.

The doctor nodded, his expression calm, as if he hadn’t just turned her world upside down.

She turned her head, searching for Bumpy, but he wasn’t there yet. He was still at work, unaware that his life was about to change in the most unimaginable way.

The next few hours were a blur of pain and exhaustion. And then—finally—the cries filled the room. Not one, but two.

Two heartbeats. Two tiny bodies.

Her arms felt weak as the nurses placed the babies in her arms. She stared at them, disbelief washing over her in waves.

Twins!!.

She had barely figured out how to be a mother to one child, and now she had three.

Then, the door swung open.

Bumpy rushed in, out of breath, his work shirt wrinkled, his face covered in sweat. He froze the moment he saw her.

And then, his gaze dropped to the two bundles in her arms.

Silence.

Akosa held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

Bumpy blinked. Once. Twice. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He dragged a hand down his face, his fingers shaking.

“Two?” His voice cracked.

Akosa nodded slowly.

His knees nearly buckled. He staggered back, gripping the doorframe for support, as if the weight of the truth was physically pressing down on him.

“Twins?” he repeated, still not fully comprehending it.

Akosa didn’t answer. She just watched as a thousand emotions flickered across his face—shock, disbelief, panic. She knew exactly what he was thinking. Three kids. At 23. How? How was this their life?

Bumpy exhaled, a shaky, uneven breath. He rubbed his temples, muttering something under his breath that Akosa couldn’t quite hear. Then, without warning, he let out a short, breathless laugh—one of those disbelieving, almost hysterical laughs.

“This… this wasn’t part of the plan,” he said, shaking his head.

Akosa felt a lump rise in her throat. “I know,” she whispered.

He paced the room, his hands on his hips, his mind racing. He was supposed to be celebrating his new job, his first taste of stability. And now, in one night, everything had changed.

Three kids. Three mouths to feed.

He stopped pacing and looked at her.

“How are we going to do this?” His voice was raw, vulnerable.

Akosa swallowed hard, tears burning the back of her eyes. “I don’t know.”

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of reality sinking in.

Then, Bumpy did something Akosa hadn’t expected.

He walked over to her, sat on the edge of the bed, and reached out to touch one of the babies. His fingers trembled as they brushed against the tiny hand. The baby curled its fingers around his, holding on tightly.

Something in his face shifted. The panic was still there, but so was something else.

Acceptance.

He looked up at Akosa, and for the first time since walking into the room, he gave her a small, tired smile.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said again. This time, he meant it.