That evening I half-walked and half-ran towards home as I had a feeling that, that evening would be special. As I approached our house I was met by a crowd of people standing in groups and talking in low tones.
Immediately it rung into my mind that it was the day my uncle Robert was coming from the USA. Him being the legal adviser of the United Nations, he was very famous. I walked brisk match really eager to see my uncle. Finally, I reached home safe and sound.
I opened our brown wooden door and went straight to the sitting room where I thought my uncle Robert would be. What I saw made me really astonished. He was a tall light-skinned man whose hair was well trimmed and he wore a well-tailored suit and polished black shoes and had a watch on his wrist. He greeted me, “Hello young girl!” I was really amazed by his American accent. I responded back in my local poor Kenyan English.
He sat in our sofa and he asked me to sit right next to him. Questions criss-crossed my mind as I asked myself, “how could they be brothers?” They did not look a like a tall. My father i.s dark skinned while uncle Robert is light skinned. Uncle Robert’s hair is neatly trimmed. My father’s hair reminds me of my grandmother’s broom.
All those questions were in my mind and I really got out of control. I went ahead and asked my father if uncle Robert was really bis brother. My father told me that he was not his brother but they were really close friends. He told me that they called themselves brothers because they were born at the same homestead and schooled together till university. Since Robert got an A and my father got a B+ he got a scholarship in the United States of America.
After this I went back into my room, removed my school uniform. From my room I could hear arguments in the sitting room. With curiosity, forgetting that curiosity kills the cat, I went to the sitting room only to find uncle Robert looking down upon my father. He even laughed at our small rented house and compared it with his mansion in the States. He spoke to my father in a very uncouth manner. When my mother served him with a plate of generous arrow-roots, he looked at the plate disgustingly and threw it on the floor.
My father’s anger reached volcanic pitch and he was just about to erupt. I with the bravery of David, went and tried to push him out. He gave me a hot slap that left me sprawling on the ground. My father called police officers who frog-matched him into the police car. Believe it or not, he was sacked from being the legal adviser of the United Nations. They told Robert that they did not need proud people to work for them.
After that incident, my father really felt betrayed and decided never to be kind to anyone. For too much of everything is poisonous!