Sarah stared at her late father’s framed photo and smiled at his tired face. Baba Sarah was always smiling even in his tired state.
“He deserved better. I hope he’s happy in heaven.” Sarah muttered.
“Baba deserved peace and love. He was there for us. He didn’t deserve the daily torture our mum gave him.” Junior said while fighting tears.
It’s been two years of living in a quiet house. Baba was terribly missed by his two children. Even the floorboards missed Baba’s slow steps as he walked to the kitchen humming amazing grace…his favorite hymn.
Three years ago.
“Kamau, you’re a very useless man. A man lying in bed like a sick puppy while bills are piling up! Get up and go bring me sugar.” Mama Sarah shouted while banging the bedroom door.
Kamau flinched. His body was weak. His eyes were sunken. He was too sad for life.
“Mama Sarah, I’m barely breathing today. I’m trying to smile for the children’s sake. Just give me a little time to get better. I’m not feeling_”
“I didn’t marry you for feelings. I married you because I was pregnant and our parents forced us. You think carrying pregnancy means love? You can barely breathe yet you breathed well enough to get me pregnant. Go and don’t come back.”
The house went silent. The children were used to this daily shouting from their mother. They hated it but they couldn’t manage to convince her to be gentle on their father. The children were broken.
Sarah, 15, kept asking Junior,14, the same question daily. “Why does mama hate baba so much?”
Now
Sarah, still in pain, turned to her mother in the dining table, the woman now older but still cold and unapologetic.
“You hated him. You hated our father even on his deathbed. You poisoned him with your words. Your words killed our father. You drained the life out of a man who only wanted to be loved.”
“I never loved him. It was forced marriage. I don’t regret anything.” Mama Sarah didn’t flinch.
“You didn’t have to stab him with your words daily. You could have left us in peace by divorcing him? Why didn’t you divorce him? He loved you. People pray for the love baba gave you.”
“Sarah, you’ll understand how society judges divorced women when you’re of age. I didn’t leave because your grandparents forced me to stay to maintain our dignity. I chose dignity over happiness. They said I’ll soil our family’s reputation. Your father knew I didn’t love him. I gave him children, what else did he want? After all, I never asked for that love.”
“Baba needed to be respected. We never heard him disrespecting you. Baba held you in high esteem. Mama, you finished him. A kind word a day was enough. Maybe just a little love when he was sick would have been better. But you drained him. He died because he was sad.”
“He would have divorced me if I stressed him.”
“Mama, deep down you know baba loved you. You know he wanted us to be raised by you. He stood your disrespect hoping you’d change.”
Mama Sarah looked away.
In the living room, Junior lit a candle besides their father’s photo.
“I remember he died with his eyes open. He hoped mama would apologize. Baba kept hoping until his last minute. He was a good man.” Junior said.
“Mama will never apologize. I guess we’ll have to live with the scars. Baba was too good for this world, especially for her. He never stopped loving her.”