Fragments of Us

Where love becomes a father

Sometimes it's not all grey and i believe that good people exist and when i felt like i was over life,i found my angel,my aunt would tell me that sometimes angels are just humans.

They say home is a person,i found my home and i always found my way home.

A home built not of walls but air,my aunt and my "papa".They loved me as easy as breathing.My aunt woke up each morning,before the dawn, to brush my worries, calm my fears.

Suddenly,the bad days didn't matter anymore,i walked like i had richness running in my system,my aunt made sure i felt like a million bucks,she loved me deeper from inside.

All my achievements were celebrated,all events attended.

Whenever i would get on stage,my aunt would get up and fold some money in my hands and people would follow after.

She blessed my hands and spoke life over me.

"Nyaramba,someday you are going to surprise me with a very posh car,parked in my compound with your rich and loving spouse."

Whenever we would tell jokes,she would laugh untill tears were streaming down her face or she thought i would forget how she dedicated me a song and reminded me that i am an african queen, i could pause all the good times i had,they let me be a free spirit.

What are bad days if the people around you love you?

Papa took on the role of a father in the most natural, loving way. He would sit me down, look into my eyes, and say, “Don’t think about a dad because I am one to you.” His words were reassuring always and to this day i'll carry you through all my life.

I would massage his face after a long day, an act that became a shared ritual, a bond between the two of us. He would ask me everytime,"How are your massages this good,who taught you?"I know he lied,he never wanted to break my heart.

It was something small, but in that simple moment, we both found comfort. He, in my care, and me, in his kindness.

We would sit and talk for hours,i found peace in his stories and his humour,the way his belly would move to the rythm of his chuckles.

Every day, he’d treat me to fries after school,something small but special that felt like a daily reminder of how much he cherished me. His love wasn’t just shown in words but in these gestures, in the way he made sure i felt important, valued, and deeply loved.

But one day i wake up,it's gone.Like a gush of wind

And years after i know i met my dad,he couldn't stay