Oliver Maina

O L I V E R M A I N A

A victim of Circumstances

Michael Ngirigacha Wanjiku

Powerhouse Publishing and Branding

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN 978_9914_50_168_1

Cover design by: PowerhouseBranding and Publishing

Contents

Acknowledgement.................. iv

Foreword...................... v

Preface..................... vi

Trying to Catch a Butterfly............... 1

Oliver's First Hero.................... 14

A Butterfly Without Wings............... 29

Oliver's Stalker................... 46

First Love...................... 54

Survival for The Fittest................ 72

Synopsis of Oliver Maina: Victim of Circumstances... 92

Acknowledgement

As a skinny boy, I met a man in the confines of a timber classroom. Mr. Ngaire, my primary school teacher. He saw my interest in story-telling and helped me become a world beater, brick by boring brick. Thank you Mr. Ngaire for believing in me.

Many thanks to my mother, Apostle Jane Haddashah for everything. For bringing me into this world and for the great times we shared. Thanks to my sister Jackline Wangui for believing in me. Thanks to my greatest avid readers, Jackline Wachira and Alice Nyakio. I would like to thank my uncle Mr. Wilson Maina for supporting me through the fog, even though sometimes he didn't understand me, he has helped me beyond measure.

A special thanks to my grandpa, he was a foreman to me, strict person but at least he held my hand and led me through battles in life. Thanks to him for taking me to hospitals all across the land when I was a sickly child. We fought a lot but he did understand me finally on his deathbed.

Lastly, thank you to Powerhouse Branding and my Publisher Sam Ndembu for making my childhood dream a reality. All the work and almost breaking the camel's back.

Let's make hay while the sun shines.

Foreword

Michael Ngirigacha Wanjiku is as green as grass but has a way with words. From being labelled the "Englishman," he spins a tale from the yarn of life based on true events.

The author's inspirations are Charles Dickens, Wahome Mutahi, Maya Angelou, William Shakespheare, Margaret Ogolla, Ngugi wa Thiongo, Ken Walibora, Said A Mohammed, Ben Carson and Grace Ogot.

Inspirations behind this book is Charles Dicken's Oliver Twist, the authentic artist Lana Del Rey, the series Euphoria and true life experiences.

Preface

Based on true life events, Oliver finds himself on the short end of the stick and he navigates life from being an infant to a burgeoning teenager. Right before our eyes, Oliver battles strange illness, meets a stalker, domestic violence, also, falls in love a couple times, there must have been a drawing of his silhouette on the ground because of all the falling. Oliver battles bullying and surviving what he calls, Kenya Defence Force Camp. When water turns to ice, you have to wonder how it was water in the first place. Oliver, once a sweet mane, becomes a vile person. Was he not a VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCES though?

The author is finally brave enough to tell his story to the world of the events that shaped his life, but in 3rd person.

Buckle up!

"I really love the book, the story so beautiful crafted, the writer wrote himself into existence, never to discard coming out strong on the other end, it's so emotional and hits so close to home.

It reminds me a lot about my life though in a different perspective. We are not our past and we can all be whatever we choose to be in this life. Well written and I encourage everyone to read Michael's memoir."

- Jackline Wachira.

"A story full of life and imagination, so relatable and full of colour, never a dull moment."

Jackline Wangui

"Great use of words to paint the picture of Oliver Maina. Michael is like a painter, with every brushstroke revealing detail after detail. Some life horrors here and there, truly Oliver Maina was a victim of circumstance."

Teacher Anne Wangithi

Oliver Maina: A Victim of Circumstance

A Story than what meets the eye

Michael Ngirigacha Wanjiku

For my grandpa. Literally took to heart spare the rod spoil the child, but was such a helping hand and a rock. May you rest in peace.

Synopsis of Oliver Maina: Victim of Circumstance

The author is finally brave enough to tell his story to the world of the events that shaped his life, but in 3rd person.

Buckle up!

CHAPTER 1

Trying to Catch a Butterfly

The sun pierced its rays on Gathitii Village scorching the ground in its wake. The usual buzz

of a Sunday morning ensued with people in frenzy mood looking forward to going to Church. Aaah!What a delight. From long floral dresses to little children suits, the village looked colorful. A detour through a meandering grass covered pathway snaked its way into a house that the Agikuyu would label as nyumba ya kosi...a traditional wooden house with a brick foundation. It slanted to one direction with no desire of falling down though. The house itself was built in the year 1970. The windows were large wooden that a fully grown man would fit through. To answer your curiosity whether this would be the bread and butter of thieves, there was wire mesh fitted that would discourage so called bandits.

Though, there was a gap in the left window that only the occupants knew, that would be used when keys were locked inside or when a certain occupant locked her kids up to go partying in the town centre. Just next to this house was a kitchen built entirely from Timber. Inside, was a wooden cupboard that would preserve everything, from fish, chapatti, and the staple githeri, a Kenyan food of corn and beans.

Two fireplaces were present. One was made from three stones while the other was two stones that fit a pot nicely. In the backroom, goats slept there and they enjoyed the warmth of the kitchen and didn't bleat as much. In between the house and the kitchen, there was a granary that would store all the maize. This maize would be used to cook the githeri or taken to the posho mill to make flour. The department below the granary had been modified to make room for chicken. To your right, there were more chicken shelters. Just as you walked by, you noticed the well-kept grass lawns that seemed like works of art, with subdivisions and patterns. On one end, stood a tall mutundu tree- croton macrostachyus tree with medicinal value common with Sub-Saharan Africa that would attract swarms of bees every now and then. By the shade of the tree, a white Peugeot 504 perched in all its glory.

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An elderly couple lived here with their two grandchildren the elderly couple's names were Jim Maina and Juliet Wangeci. Their two grandchildren were, Oliver Maina and Caroline Wambui. A much older man, James approached the homestead, his face breaming with glee. He was the godfather of 4 month old Oliver and always came to visit him. Most godfathers don't visit their grandkids but he made sure to visit his godchild every now and then. Jim and Juliet cordially welcomed James to their homestead with a cup of tasty duvia... traditional Kenyan tea with no sugar.

After refreshments, James picked up Oliver. Oliver wore

his boshori, a funny looking headgear wore by 90s toddlers but a good protector from cold oh my! Though it hurts when you are being dressed. Oliver wore blue jumpsuit too. James liked taking Oliver on adventures with the wheelbarrow. James would "carry" Oliver in the wheelbarrow all around town. For some reason, James loved carrying the infant in a wheelbarrow, and Oliver loved it equally as much. The wheelbarrow itself was a stock structure, made by the finest blacksmith as it had been around for years and was in still in good shape. Though, not the largest, it was strong and was effective in its duties.

James pushed the wheelbarrow while making car sounds, much to the delight and giggling of the infant. The murram road appeared in front of them as they bypassed the green grass pathway. The road was inviting and James pushed the wheelbarrow all around the village, up to the shop, a half a kilometer away. The journey back was equally as enjoyable for little Oliver who had already developed a fascination for cars and imagining this was a locomotive gave him much joy. When they got to the entrance of the homestead, James left him by the road to make a call.

Oliver sat on the wheelbarrow in the middle of the road. The entrance of the homestead was just next to a meandering road corner. In the shake of a duck's tail, a white speeding pickup appeared. The driver tried to evade hitting the wheelbarrow but alas! The sudden impact of steel and aluminum culminated in the flying debris of wheelbarrow and child into the neighbor's shamba, meaning farm. Oliver felt the impact of metal on his waist and next thing he remembered was him lying in the neighbor's shamba, the wheelbarrow just next by, turned upside down. James let out a scream as he watched this action unfold. He rushed to the kid's aid and the kid just lay there, as quiet as a mouse.

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The moons passed by eating up time in the land. Oliver grew close to his grandfather and was baptized at the local Kamuiruu Catholic Church. It was a lively affair that attracted lots of eyes and attention. Parents rejoiced as their children got water poured on them with a green jug to symbolize belief in Jesus Christ and walking in the light.

Kamuiruu Catholic Church bore witness to the wedding of Oliver's mother Rhoda Nyambura and Joseph Mwangi in December 1999. This was Oliver's first celebratory event and he was really happy about it. The bride though wore a gloomy expression on her big day while the bride groom exerted his control while signing the marriage certificates. Oliver was excited and he grinned from ear to ear. Oliver's grandparents were present and the whole extended family at large.

The photographer for this wedding was keen to show his process using all techniques available to his ever expanding creativity. The congregation in church sat as the Father cut a long sermon. In the crowd, friends of the family wore white dresses with large sun hats while the men wore their brazing suits. Most of the photographer's shots caught some of these women napping in 3D and this would be earmarked in memory.

Life between Rhoda and Joseph began at Kiangage village, adjacent to little Mununga town. The house itself was also a nyumba ya kosi on a hill. From afar, it seemed like a zebra with its black and white stripes. The kitchen outside was wooden with no painting. A two stone fireplace stood towards the end of the room, just next to a window. A red carpet like pavement led to the pit latrine at the end of the farm and an outside bathroom just next by.

For detail, a tank was on the opposite end with a collection of sugarcane growing just next by. The house itself had 3 bedrooms, a shower room, and a spacious table room. In the table room, there was a big cupboard, a gift for the two wedded lovers, a big cassette that would shake the whole house when music was played through it. Two armchairs and two sofa sets occupied the room, with a mat and a glass table in the middle.

A Television set that mainly broadcasted O'clock news completed the room, while a little kitchen place just next by with a microwave, a fridge, and some utensils.

In every bit of the word, the marriage started off in the best way possible. Joseph went to church as much as possible and included his step son in his decisions. By this time Oliver was calling him dad, for he knew of no other father, and he felt the love. The family was inclusive and everything a family aspires to be. Just like the Titanic, the ship would soon hit an iceberg. Just a month after the marriage, a hump began to show on Rhoda's stomach. A hump not caused by excessive eating. A new life would soon grace this lovely household and everyone was so excited, Oliver too.

◆◆◆

The PCEA TumuTumuu Hospital was busy on this particular day as a trolley quickly ferried Rhoda into the maternity room.

All nurses were busy, ever seeming to take responsibilities from families and fathers and avoiding queer questions.

Rhoda stared blankly into the hospital ceiling as nurses and gynecologists hovered all around her like helicopters in a political rally. Another contraction came and Rhoda's voice pierced the night sky in agony. The nurses instructed her to push but the pain just overwhelmed her. She had no energy to push. She took in a deep breath as instructed and tried to push again. She pushed as if she would never push again and soon enough, the cries of an infant filled the cold night air.

"It's a girl!" shouted the nurses and Rhoda's weary face let out a weak smile as she faded to black.

When Rhoda came to, her baby lay in Joseph's arms by the side of the bed. This was a crowning moment as Joseph had just been made a new father. Arrangements were made for the happy couple to return to their happy abode. They arrived at their home to much fanfare. Villagers arrived every day to meet the new acquaintance of the family, Maureen Wanjiku.

Gifts and presents flocked the household and every day was a chance for iruga in the next few weeks. The new born's skin shone and her vibrant giggles captivated the visiting villagers.

A month passed and baby Maureen began to have some ailments. Her outie belly button began to swell the size of a balloon. Maureen's parents began to fear the worst and the panic button was hit. Joseph and Rhoda rushed to TumuTumu hospital in Karatina to get some medical help. Maureen was diagnosed to be ailing from pediatric umbilical hernias. Maureen was put under the knife to undergo some medical rectifications. Joseph and Rhoda's hearts were almost out of their hearts and they waited.

Maureen made a recovery and responded well to medicine and treatments. The inflations stopped though these swellings would come from time to time but not as scary as the first time. Joseph treated Maureen with care and was always watchful of her, a product of his blood. An impeccable father daughter bond formed in the early stages. Oliver was also so full of love for his sister and liked carrying her with a shuka on his back and would carry her everywhere. Whenever Oliver went to his grandparents, he would carry her on his back and take her all across the large compound telling her what everything meant and answering her intrusive questions and telling her every name of items.

Talk of the iceberg, and the titanic crash really came to town. Joseph began to show Maureen a lot of love and out casted Oliver. Oliver didn't understand where all this came from. Joseph would buy things solely for Maureen and leave

Oliver out, not that Oliver minded though. Joseph's demeanor changed and he stopped going to church. He started coming home smelling of the bottle and staggering in more ways than Michael Jackson himself, though this was not a break dance. Quarrels between Joseph and Rhoda would erupt like active volcanos out of nothing.

Quarrels soon sprung into physical violence and Joseph would hit Rhoda at every moment of asking. He would hit her like he was a Mohammed Ali reincarnation trying to win gold medal leaving a messy bloody affair every time. Food had no salt, room for violence, food had too much salt, another ground for World War 3. Oliver would try to interfere to help out his mother but he was always shoved away like a bug. Several times his head hit the wall while being shoved and blood would pour from his head too.

Joseph never hit Maureen though and he maintained love for her during this period. He would always bring her snacks and presents, even when drunk. Oliver meanwhile would face corporal punishment for any mistakes he made. Oliver never liked taking medicine and his stepfather would beat him up every time for this. Oliver tried to cook ugali and it come out as a syrup. He tried to hide the evidence under the arm-chair but his step father found out.

He was beaten like a dog. Another time he smoked a cigarette while walking in the dark on the path from the shop. He didn't think anyone noticed but his cousin Wamugundaa saw him and told his step-father. The beating that he received was not light. Sometimes food would be served to Oliver while his father hid a pipe in his sleeve, and after Oliver ate to his fill, he would get his pounding. Oliver had to carry out tasks too hard for his slim complextion like carrying fetching water from the stream while carrying the water in two 20litre jerry cans up a hill to their home.

Oliver soon developed a condition where he would escape into his mind and be oblivious of what was happening in the outside world. Calling him and even shaking him he wouldn't notice. He was lost in his own mind, the only place he felt safe from the onslaught of the world. He became numb to the outside world and clammed up like a tortoise that had just felt a touch.

Tortoises don't like being touched, do they? He found peace when he slept and he slept like a log of wood. The nights were better than the days. Blankets that covered him protecting him from the biting cold also protected him from his angry stepfather.

A thin ray of sunshine came one day when Oliver's stepfather caught a porcupine with one of his traps. Oliver's watercolor eyes that dreamt of love but this love tasted like poison. Facts of life made it hard to dream too. His eyes though would feast on this creature with spikes that was nicely prepared by his stepfather. A few villagers were invited and there a celebration and merry making. The meat was so tender and sweet and Oliver savored every moment of every bite. The night was kind and silent and Oliver revered in the quietness and humbleness of the universe. When it came time for the guests to leave, Oliver did not want them to leave but he didn't say a word. He just waited for the thunder to come crashing in.

Morning came and birds sang their melodies in unison outside. Morning dew sprang all over the land. Joseph prepared himself to go fishing in his fishing pond downstream. Rhoda grabbed her basket, wore her headgear and nylon protective gear, in readiness to pick tea leaves out in the farm. Oliver meanwhile slept peacefully like a rock in his room.

When Oliver came to, everyone had gone. He quickly ate his breakfast that was on the table. Without dilly dallying, he went outside. Downhill in the farm, he saw his mother as she picked tea leaves and throwing them in the tea basket that she carried in her back. He was trying to go to the farm but there was a cow that blocked the pathway to the farm. The cow was tethered to a pole, had big horns and was as large as a buffalo. The cow eat grass in a rhythmic fashion as Oliver figured how to get to the farm.

Oliver made way to the edge of the pathway, and this was when he miscalculated. He had not fully comprehended the reach of the rope that was tied to the cow. The cow sprung to life and headed for the little boy in neck breaking speed. The boy froze as the fire breathing cow reached him. The cow swung its horn to the side and aimed trajectory at the boy's face.

The deafening impact as horn met cheek and bone was implosive. The cow was protecting its territory and debris of flying little boy landed about five meters from the raging cow. Oliver let out a scream as tears flooded his eyes and blood dripped from his cheeks like a fountain of water. A neighbour who was passing by heard the screams and stormed into the compound to find Oliver on the ground covered in a pool of blood. His mother was called from her farming activities and she threw the basket full of tea leaves with no disregard for them at this particular moment and rushed to the scene.

Arriving at the scene was a distraught sight that graced her eyes. Her son lay on the grass wailing, his face covered in blood. She quickly prepared him to go to hospital. Joseph then arrived from his fishing expedition haven't already got the news. To everyone's surprise, he refused for Oliver to be taken to hospital. Rhoda tried to plead for her son, but her plea fell on deaf ears. Joseph turned into Pharaoh and refused to listen to compromise. Rhoda was forced to tend to her son's wounds and her husband showed no remorse. She cleaned his wounds and fetched some medicine from the nearby chemist to apply on him.

Lady luck stroke at nightfall though, as Joseph finally agreed for Oliver to be taken to a hospital. Rhoda had been tending to Oliver's wounds all day. An uncle provided a car and they headed for the hospital. Though Joseph agreed for Oliver to be taken to hospital, he refused for Oliver to be taken to a general or major hospital.

They all took the little boy to a small clinic in Kamuruanaa. The doctor they met was unqualified for the task but he could not pass this chance of making some buck. He quickly sedated Oliver and started operating on his cheek. A total of 6 incisions were made and his lip was returned to place. Mr. Doctor then dressed Oliver's wounds and then prescribed medication for him.

The healing process was gruelling and Oliver couldn't eat any solid foods for months. He survived on porridge and bread soaked in tea. Any other food would have to be crushed into a syrup for him to eat, as he couldn't chew anything. During this period, Oliver didn't go to school and just stayed at home nursing his wounds. The cow faced repercussions by having its big, beautiful and dangerous horns cut.

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When Oliver's wound was undressed, he discovered his bottom lip had bent in one direction and there was a large ugly scar on the corner of his mouth, job between his upper and lower lip. Truly the work of a quack was there for all to see, Oliver having to live with the results. He hated his life. Undergoing a near death experience did not soften Joseph's heart and he treated his step son with malice. The moment that broke the camel's back was when one afternoon Oliver call Joseph "DAD" and Joseph snapped and told him to never call him that again, for he was not his father. The hurt in Oliver's heart knew no bounds. A hurt more painful than the pain he felt from blood gushing out courtesy of the cow's attack.

The violence sooner rather later resumed with more venom than the last time. Rhoda had stayed all this while because of her kids. She sat by herself held her cheek and had a renaissance. Was she and her son gonna be killed in this man's home. To what end was this staying and surviving these violent nights? Was it worth it in the end? Rhoda looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face had scars and her brown skin complexion had already started diminishing. She was darker now and her body was frail, with large rings around her eyes. Her eyes were teary watercolor eyes but there was still a distant sparkle in them, a belief in better things and a better future. She then looked at her son. Her son was once chubby with huge cheeks now looked frail and weak. He once had a resemblance of a girl with his brown skin but now he looked like a pirates of the Caribbean crew member, no pun intended. His sweet girl like voice was now barely a whisper and you could barely hear him speak.

Rhoda finally had enough. She talked to her in laws and gauged their perspective. She then waited for nightfall. She packed a few belongings for the 5 km journey to her parents. The night was dark and full of terrors but this did not register in Rhoda's mind. She picked up her two kids in the dead of night and escaped prison while her man slept.

They got a lift in a truck. The truck tossed and juddered through the rocky terrain as the night air was still. Crickets voiced their grievances loudly in the soft night air. Jim had just come from the latrine when full headlights of a truck shone in his compound. He had heard the noise of a truck's engine in the distance but had just assumed it was passing by. Out came his daughter in tattered clothes and her kids in tow with their belongings in a sack. He didn't ask and just went over and hugged them, welcoming them home. To Oliver, happiness was a butterfly he was always trying to catch, but the butterfly would disappear into the moonlight ever night. The sadness of broken dreams and a broken family had already set in as he held his mother's hand and they entered the dimly lit room with light coming from a katandika... traditional Kenyan lantern.

Oliver Maina

Table of contents

Volume 1

Chapter 1 - Trying to catch a butterfly