Dear Diary,
This is one
of Mom’s family experience.
My Mom has
always told us about her brother who went missing in the late 80s, early 90s.
For years, she and her family have cried and prayed for his return, it has been
heartbreaking for them those past decades especially for my Grandma. News did come and go, his spotting here and there. Nothing concrete except
the two neutral unspoken factors: His alcoholism and Mombasa; the Kenyan
coastal Island of sin.
When I was about
6 or so years of age, a man visited our then home in Gatitu, Nyeri and introduced
himself as Uncle Kariuki, Mom’s Brother. Only the househelp, my elder brother and I
were present. He spent the day with us buying us snacks and loads of sodas
(I never forgot the soda as it was something we couldn't afford easily growing
up) and though we didn’t know him, he had a calmness and ease about him. We couldn’t wait for Mom to come home from work that evening to break the news to her. (He left that afternoon so Mom didn’t get the chance to even look at him). She cried so much as she tried to wrap her head around the
happenings. This was back in mid or late 90s so phones weren’t a ‘thing’ yet.
She hadn’t seen or heard from him in almost 2 decades and he had just visited
her children and was up and gone with the wind again.
Fast forward
2014 my Mom’s eldest brother found my lost Uncle again, in a stupor near dead
episode of alcoholism. He took him to his house in Meru and nursed him back to health, they (siblings) had a family re-union where everyone went to Meru and finally, they raised enough cash to have him admitted into a
rehabilitation center. This was the first time my Grandma had seen her son in
about 30 years I believe! Imagine that.
A few weeks
in, he fell off the wagon and left again, didn’t tell a soul. The anguish, the
pain, the heartbreak…All over again. His phone went un-answered for months. Now in 2016
around September, he travelled to Meru to my Uncle’s home, to apologize and ask
for forgiveness from his elder brother. He’s been at my Cucu’s (Grandma’s)
place a couple of times since and this December, he brought his 18 year old son with.
People speak
of no God, or a God that never answers. But my family’s testimony and awaited
3+ decade prayer finally got a response.
God does
have a plan. One we may never understand, one in which we may bleed, but one
with Hope and a Purpose.
Don’t give
up, especially in Prayer.
He’s forever
listening and his timing is perfect.
Trust the
process. It is one of greatness.
This was a
writing on a cellar wall In Cologne, Germany during the holocaust,
‘I Believe
in the Sun even when it is not shining,
I Believe in
Love even when I cannot feel it,
I Believe in
God even when he is silent.’
Love,
Nyandia.
