Psychological trauma can leave you struggling with upsetting emotions, memories, and anxiety that won’t go away. When bad things happen, it can take a while to get over the pain and feel safe again. As it is in the case of Mercy Kamonjo, 22, who had an abusive childhood. She narrates;
“I didn’t shed a tear on the day we buried my father. I was 14, waiting to join high school. My elder brother was 18, our youngest three. Mum shed hot painful tears as my father’s casket was lowered into the ground. I’ll never forget how much she cried—I think she cried for an entire week after the burial.
My father had been an alcoholic for years. Our home was on a lush farm in Molo, Nakuru County. Mum was a subsistence farmer, and my father a businessman. He’d drink in Molo town then come home at night singing loudly and name-calling people along the way. We would all be so frightened every time we heard him approaching home. Often times, he would physically abuse my mother.
I don’t remember when the abuse started, but I remember an episode when I was about eight years old. We were seated around the dining room table when he locked the crook of his arm around my mother’s neck, strangling her. She was gasped for air, struggling to release his grip. She motioned with her eyes and pointed to the knife in the kitchen, mouthed for me to get it for her. But I didn’t. I was too frightened. I figured he’d kill her instead.
The abuse turned my mum into a bitter woman. In turn, she started abusing my brother and I. She’d yell and throw things at us, even sufurias. Anything petty would spark off her anger. She beat us ruthlessly often times.
My father was diagnosed with tuberculosis in 2007. He changed—he got born again, quit drinking, spent his evenings at home and became the father we had always wanted. All his money went to hospital bills. We were just beginning to enjoy his loving presence when he passed away. I accepted his death.
I had the sense of maturity to realize he was gone, and that we had to move on with our lives. But I was also overburdened with bitterness and hatred. I suppose that’s why I didn’t shed tears on the day we buried him.