Growing up

Growing up

In my growing up years, I never had the privilege of having my biological parents to mother and father me. This was at a very tender age, we were left with relatives. There were three of us at the time of which I was the smallest of the three. One big sister and brother. Now the family I was left with had four other children, which were much older than we were. So they became the ones who became my family system.
Now I had no contact personally with my father, until my adult years which is very recent, of which I would share on as I sorely believe God has brought this meeting about. The family I grew up with is the lady I call aunty was a Godly women, she would pray and sing some hymns that tell me of the love of God so much that you could feel it. The father of this family grew up with, was an alcoholic, he was very hard, but he drink as much as he would cruse everyone in the house. I watched as this slowly killed his wife, because of the constant abuse, but she remain faithful to him. He kept other women outside of the marriage, even brought home a child from this. As time went by I started asking questions about my mother and father. Where are they? When are they coming back for me? Will I ever see them? I was told they were both overseas. Then at another time, I heard my father is living here as a police man working at the Convention. People would tell me sometimes that they see him Market. This community is very small, the people knew everyone. Knew my mother would write letters from where she was and never was one for us. We would get some of it in the early stage when Aunty were able to go to the post office.
Now my big sister left for some reason. I never really understand it then, why she left my brother and I. We had to rise early in the morning, go into the woods to carry out the cows and goats, that’s what it term. Then get back to get water for the house, if none was in the pipe for everyone, and then get ready for school. Sometimes we get to...

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