I was born in the coastal town of Mombasa. Growing up in Nyali during the 80s was a quiet living experience. My neighbour next door and first childhood friend was called Abbe –Meaning My father is joyful, a stark contrast to mine, as i came to learn in the later years of my life.
Invisible Optics by Muki Garang
Abbe had blonde hair and green eyes similar to the humans I saw on television.
The first time we met in the backyard, I froze. I had never seen the TV humans so close. The voice in my head whispered, “What is this ?!” Little did I know thirty years later, I would be shacking up with a blonde with blue eyes and call her my wife.
My recollection draws me to board games I played with my father. Scrabble dragged on till he won. In chess, he always played white. A safer option was not to ask why.
In ’88, I started playing more outdoors and making new friends. Now living in Nairobi, I earned the nickname Carl Lewis. I was fast! During mock Olympic races, rumour had it that before the umpire yelled go! – I was gone!
Two broken thumbs later as a goalkeeper earned me severe beatings. As early as eight years old, I did my best to avoid confrontation from both parents. One day I gathered the guts to ask my father, “Daddy, am I your son?” He looked me at with joy and replied, “But yes, baba, you are my firstborn!”
“Then why do you beat me so hard?” I didn’t ask him that, though. Afraid of the answer, rather scared to death in which form I would receive it.
Dad had it figured out with my siblings. I didn’t play to his cards. He set out a career path that i was to follow. He didn’t communicate well, not with words at least. For that I still walk with a heavy chip on my right shoulder,hence the bounce in my stroll.