Please do not trust ‘Dead Meat’, I take good care of my Branton

When Baby Branton was born in late 2011, you will remember that a quick analysis of the date of software downloading viz-a-viz to the possible date of software installation showed that I could not have been the father of the boy.

I know there are enemies of development out there who will say that the boy is a photocopy of yours truly but you all know that all people of Mwisho wa Lami are descendants of one person and therefore the possibility of any baby resembling me in this village and its environs remains quite real, even today.

However, being a peace-loving citizen who loves children and progress, I accepted the responsibility as it hurts me to see someone grow up fatherless.

This despite the overwhelming evidence that Cate, Branton mother’s, has always had a secret and ill-motive agenda in her persistent insistence that I am Branton’s father: her agenda has been to destroy my enviously good and clean name, and scuttle my solid career progression.

MALNOURISHED BRANTON
If you remember, I am the one who paid for hospital fees when Branton was delivered, although I was duped into doing that by Cate.

After she was discharged from hospital, Cate came to our home, although she left shortly.

Last year, I led the “Bring Branton Home” campaign that saw him come to our home, but the pandemonium that was caused by Fiolina, the auspicious laugh of my envious life, meant that he went to stay with my sister, Yunia.

But early this year, I received an SMS from Cate in which she claimed that Branton was malnourished and lacked clothing. I responded to her and assured her that Branton was well.

At no time had my sister Yunia complained about the cost of raising him, or even asked me to provide anything for Branton.

“Branton does not eat a balanced diet and does not have enough clothing,” Cate told me when I called her back.

“That is a lie because he has excess clothes and some were even given to Yunia’s children,” I told her. “In any case he also eats the same food that Yunia’s children, and no child of Yunia’s has ever fallen ill.”

RESPONSIBLE MAN

A few weeks later, I received news that Cate had gone to Yunia’s home and walked away with Branton – saying that her son deserved a better life than he was getting.

I must, however, mention here that the time she brought Branton was the time she was almost getting married, but it would appear that things did not go as planned, and that is why she wanted Branton back.

As a responsible citizen, I continued supporting Branton. As late as last February, I bought him slippers – and I have the receipt for this in my wallet.

In March, I sent Cate some Sh200 through M-Pesa for medication when Branton fell ill – and I still have the confirmation text message on my phone as evidence.

Have I mentioned the day I met Branton at Mwisho wa Lami market a few weeks ago and bought him three scones and some sugar cane?

How many fathers in Mwisho wa Lami do that for their own children?

CHIEF SUMMONS
So you can imagine my surprise when the chief called me in his office last week. When we had spoken on phone, he told me that Cate had reported that I had neglected my son, and she was therefore looking for mandatory child support from me to be paid every month.

“I therefore summon you to appear before me on Thursday to explain why you do not take care of your son,” he instructed me on phone.

It must, however, be noted that the chief and I were a perfect case of hate at first sight. We have never agreed on anything, I was sure he was quite happy to at least get a case against me.

I also knew that Cate was bringing this up so as to scuttle my confirmation as deputy headmaster or milk more money from me after she heard that I had been deservedly promoted.

I considered snubbing the chief but after careful consideration and extensive soul-searching, I decided to honour the summons, for the sake of Branton, the boy that I love so much.

I arrived at the chief’s office on Thursday at 11 a.m. Cate was already there with the child.

REPRIMANMDED
Branton started running towards me when he saw me but he stopped in his tracks when his mother gave him one stern look.

Branton was wearing a torn t-shirt and old trousers. He was also barefoot yet I was sure that the slippers I bought him were still new.

A few minutes later, the chief came out of office and started with me. “Andrea, what is the time? I instructed you to be here at 9 a.m. and this is the time you arriving?”

“Bwana Chief, I was arranging a few things in school before I could come. As the deputy…” I went on but he cut me short.

“You think our job is useless? Are you the only deputy headmaster in this location? Deputy headmaster is a very small position so don’t bring us. Catherina here is a teacher just like you, but she arrived on time. Who do you think you are?”

I knew where all this was headed and I was not surprised when he added: “The elders was here on time and I had to release them; I can’t call them back unless you are going to give them their tea.”

FALSE STORY
Unwilling to argue, I told him to recall them. Only two turned up: Alphayo, a sworn enemy of my family and Ratiko – I hear his name is Radicle. We entered the chief’s office and Cate narrated her side of the story, which was full of lies.

“Look at how malnourished your son looks,” said the chief after Cate had spoken, pointing at Branton. “Do those clothes look like those worn by a deputy headmaster’s son?”

“You spend thousands on you expensive Kaunda suits but you can’t spare anything for your son?” Alphayo joined in. I told them Branton was deliberately dressed that way but they would hear none of it.

After long, one-sided discussions, they ruled that I should be sending Cate Sh1,450 per month for child support.

“That is not possible because I can’t afford that,” I told them. “I will continue to support Branton whenever an issue arises but Cate has a salary. She doesn’t need additional money!”

“What! You can say like that?” Cate asked me. “You have until tomorrow to call me and agree on how much you will be paying me monthly or else tukutanie Dead Meat kwa Bookface!” she said. She then beckoned Branton to follow her and left.

Now you know. Should you see anything bad written about me on Bookface please treat it with the contempt is deserves all that it would be is pure blackmail.