When her marriage took a turn and her husband started drinking himself stupid several years ago, she decided not to have any other kid. She already had a handsome son and she would struggle with him and give him everything that she never had as a kid.
Raising him up was a joy and her life and happiness depended on seeing him happy and she smothered him with love. Years flew by really fast and her kid was no longer a kid. He was a handsome man with great brains plus a strong will to make his mother really proud.
He did well in school and as expected secured himself a seat in a public university ; Garissa. He was happy and his mother and grandfather were happy for him too and did what they could to raise his fee. It was a dream come true.
On April second, something was amiss to her but she went on with her chores until her son sent her a text
‘ mum, nikubaya. Niombee’ translating to ‘ mum, it’s really bad here. Pray for me. ‘
She lost it and tried calling him so many times. He didn’t pick her calls and her father joined her and they tried to find out what was happening. That is when they got the news that the school that her son was in, was under attack. Every part of her hurt and she prayed and cried as they tried to get to him. His phone went off eventually later in the day.
They maintained hope that he maybe lost it until the following day when his cousin mustered enough courage to post on the Facebook page of the university on his whereabouts and one kid inboxed her
‘ Alex was shot’.
They fought it and wont listen since the red cross association had released the names of the dead students and his name wasn’t there. The cousin went all crazy at the kid who inboxed and he said he would see what he would do to confirm what he was saying was true. Later that day, he sent them a blurred photo of Alex with a bullet on his neck.
She still wanted to fight the truth. She wanted someone to shake her up and tell her she was having a bad dream. Only that it didn’t happen. Her color was lost. Her eyes are swollen and her cheeks are scorched by her tears.
All parents were asked to go identify bodies at Chiromo mortuary Nairobi and a few of her friends accompanied her. In the first round of bodies, his was missing and so it was in the second round. She started hoping that she was right and how wrong everyone else was claiming her son was dead. She wished and hoped. In the third round though, he was there among the unidentified bodies, lifeless and she couldn’t face it. She didn’t want to face it and she still doesn’t want to face it. Her eyes are lifeless and she wishes it’s a dream only that she wakes up and finds people surrounding her. She wants to sleep and never wake up because then maybe she can see her baby and she can be in peace. The hole in her heart and the pain in her body can go away. It’s only in never waking up that she can never think of his smile, his hug, his way of calling her mum, his strong head and everything about him.
He will get laid to rest on Tuesday 14 of April and her heart goes down that grave with him.
Rest in peace Alex. If love was all is needed to bring one back, then your mum’s would have been more than enough.
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