Look daddy if we came back to you can you really afford to take me to a good

Look daddy if we came back to you can you really

This preview shows page 96 - 98 out of 287 pages.

inferior one. Look daddy, if we came back to you, can you really afford to take me to a good school? Can you afford the life style which me and mummy live? We are sorry daddy but we can't cope. Bye Bye daddy." Then I saw the mother and her picture came back to me as she went swinging her hips and buttocks as if purposely to mock me. I remembered how she pretended not to know me. How she was preventing the clean kid from getting into contact with his dirty reject of a father. My head started aching. I hid my face between my hands with tears almost falling. Then my comforter came, 'Son of Tate, what's this you are doing to yourself? Why bother yourself with things you have no control over? The kid is gone and forever. You said it yourself, you belong to the inferior class, they belong to the opposite. You are two accurate parallel lines which will never meet. Just relax and forget about beautiful rich wives and good sons who do not need you. Think of your home. Yes, Wamathina, the slums where you belong. Think of your shanty in Mathare Valley where nobody on this earth can envy you about or send you away from. Yes, sonny, that's where you belong, don't doubt it. Think of your bed which is invested by bedbugs which crawled from your neighbour's shanty. Think of how you can get rid of those termites and you have yourself a nice quiet place.' I hurled the cigarettes which had now become bitter across the room to the furthest comer. I stood up, picked my watch and put it on. I picked my lighter, then my wallet which I unzipped and saw I had three hundred and fifty shillings. I put it in my pocket. I had to leave. I wasn't going to stay in a hospital which I was sure I couldn't afford. Who was to pay for it if I had spent a whole night. I checked the time and saw it was ten minutes past five. Somehow, I had got here and somehow I was going to get out. But first, the plan, where was this hospital? What if I was caught red handed sneaking away? I got to the door and tried it. It wasn't locked. That gave me some assurance and hope. Now the plan. I went back to
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the bed and sat, took out a cigarette and lit it. I took the card. There was no way I could fold it without spoiling it and I wanted to take the prescriptions so that I would go and buy medicine if I became sick again. I couldn't understand a thing written on it apart from the disease. I decided to cut the part with the prescriptions, then the door opened and a young lady dressed in white appeared. Her eyes went straight to the card which was now halfway cut. Then she looked at me. We stared at each other suspiciously, with me feeling guilty. Then she gathered some courage and entered. "Oh . . . Hello. You are up at last. How are you feeling? You should be in your bed resting." I didn't answer. She came closer and put her hand on my shoulder, then touched my forehead with the back of her hand. "Qo back to bed please. How are you feeling?" she repeated.
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