THE BAPTISM OF FIRE

THE TURN OF THE SHIP

Variety is the spice of life, there are always ups and downs, good moments and bad moments. One should not always see life through the rose tinted glasses. I rode through the roughest aspect of life when I had lost my both parents in the grisly accident. My father was a doctor in a government hospital and my mother an accountant in a private company. They lashed out money extravagantly on whatever we needed like flashy clothes and all types of food and drinks for our nourishment. I and my sister Christine were in different prestigious boarding schools for quality education.During the school holidays,they employed a tutor who hammered plenty of knowledge into us and provided floods of assignments that made us burn the midnight oil every day. We moved the earth and heaven to give out an outstanding performance to keep them bask in euphoria and love us more. We preferred our fathers deluxe car to drive us to the church on Sundays. After the services we moved into the public land preserved for recreational activities and enjoyed, then further to the restaurant to large it on. The world was an oyster for us and our lives were in a clover. Jane was our maid who was there at our services and protected us from entering the jaws of the wolves. They prepared a banquet three times a year for the celebration of the gift of their children I and my sister Christine. people from all walks of lives turned up and prominent musicians were invited to ginger up the celebration. From their cultivated lips,they advised us to respect people who crossed our paths and for any gossip from the grapevine of people we should chew the meat and spit out the bones. Humility and harmony was all they loved in us. My parents made the world to be so sweet and worthy of living until when the blossom fall off the Rose. One Saturday morning,they traveled to my maternal home for the celebrations of circumcision rite of my cousin Leonard. They tossed down drinks, and made pig of themselves with plenty of food that were prepared by the qualified chefs. On their way back home, they got involved in a grisly accident which was a head on collision with the passenger vehicle. They were rushed to the hospital but they both succumbed to death. Floods of tears were streaming out of my sisters eyes and I. We gnashed our teeth in pains and agony, but finally they were laid under the six feet to rest in peace. It was barely a month when the world turned into a nightmare on us. Our maid was sacked and we were forced into doing house chores in my uncles house. We were also stopped from going to school. After six months my sister got ill and her healthy deteriorated due to harsh conditions she was subjected to by my uncle. My late mothers sister, took her to maternal home for the new environment. One morning I was seated on the grave of my late mother shedding tears on reminiscing the smooth life we had together, how they handled us with kid gloves, and showed us love that no one else on this world would ever do the same. My uncle popped up from nowhere and beat the pants off me misconstruing that I was provoking the spirit of my late mother to haunt him and chased me out of the home. I trekked to a nearby shopping center where I chanced to get a dilapidated half demolished hut to provide a roof over my head. The following day I decided to ramble around to search for any menial job that could keep me above the waters and found one in a homestead of one woman called Sarah. I kept the straps of my purse very tight on the money I saved from my farming and livestock herding work. I lost much weight and my health went down to dogs, the hostile nature of the work put more years on me, but no one could help a lame dog over a stile. Sarahs daughter Frida never loved me, she kept persecuting me in their house, but I had no a cat in hells chance to persuade her parents about the attitude she had for me. She made my life miserable and I felt so desolated. I wished for death to carry me to the other world to reunite with my parents. Frida jumped through the hoops to push me out of her parents home, she framed false allegations that I wanted to r**e her while her parents were out for work and I got sacked without one full month salary. I moved out and used the amount I had been saving in renting a wretched hut according to the measure of my purse. I had an inspiration of going back to school and therefore I registered to a public secondary school. I fired all the cylinders to make sure my performance was outstanding. I tackled the Kenya certificate of secondary examination and cruised through successfully with an eligible grade for the university entry. I decided to pursue medicine just like my father. I was strapped for cash but tried to tide over some I scraped from my menial jobs, I did during the holidays. In the university, I buckled down and hit the books with passion until the completion of my course and graduated without any relative to celebrate and congratulate me. When the job opportunities showed themselves, I did not sleep at the switch and I got lucky to secure a government job. I then immediately traveled to my maternal home to see my sister who I did not delay to take back to school, so that I could save her doomed future. My sister is now a secondary school teacher employed by the government. Parents are the strong tree to rest on, its roots are branched deep to the ground that no amount of cyclone can sway it. Respect, obey and love your parents. Written by Dominic Moruri Nyandago.