My father, Mutuku and my mother, Wanjiku, were known for their unbreakable bond. Their love was the kind that inspired songs and stories, a beacon of hope for all who knew them. But as the sun set on a fateful evening of September last year, a dark shadow crept into their home. Mutuku, once a gentle soul, had changed. His eyes, once filled with warmth, now burned with an unsettling fire.....CONTINUE READING THE ARTICLE FROM THE SOURCE
One night, the air thick with tension, My father took a knife from the kitchen. His movements were deliberate, his face a mask of determination.
My mother sensing the danger, tried to flee, but My father caught her, forcing her between his legs. The scene was surreal, a nightmare unfolding in the dim light of their home.
Out of fear, I hid in the shadows, watched in horror. The knife glinted menacingly, as my heart pounded in the chest. I wanted to scream, to run, but fear held me in place.
As my father raised the knife, a strange force seemed to take hold of him. His eyes glazed over, and he began to chant in a language I did not understand. I thot that was the last moment to ever see my mother.
My mother cries echoed through the house, a haunting melody of pain and despair. Thank God, I was unable to bear it any longer, let out a scream that pierced the night. My father froze, the knife slipping from his grasp. He looked around, confused, as if waking from a trance.
The villagers, drawn by the commotion, rushed to our house. They found my father and my mother on the floor, the knife lying between them.
The elders, wise in the ways of the old world, whispered of witchcraft and dark spells. They spoke of a curse meant to tear apart the love that had once been so strong.
In the days that followed, as a family through the guidance of the elders we sought help from Mugwenu, a renowned healer and protector.
He performed rituals to cleanse our home and break the curse. Slowly, the darkness lifted, and my father began to return to his old self. The love between him and my mother, though scarred, began to heal.
I often reflects on that night. I remember the fear, the pain, but also the strength of our family’s love. It was a love that had been tested by the darkest of forces but had ultimately prevailed.
