Girl in the USA

This is what she had always dreamt of. She had her bags all packed and her passport in her hand, ready to set foot on that land where everyone said the grass was greener. This is the land where everyone who had a chance to go, returned with a lighter tongue than normal where words simply rolled off their tongue in a bid to sound American, but lo! The Kenyan accent was a stubborn one and one could always tell that that accent was fake because the person was literally struggling to make it work. But I digress...

The flight to Obamaland was a long one. Having three meals being served on one flight is no joke! Thank goodness for the working TV monitor and free WiFi, because she was able to keep herself entertained as she awaited touchdown. She sat away from her mother on the flight. There was no particular reason for that. It just happened. Upon landing, she didn't have to stand in line with everybody else to go through a customs check. This is why she was happy her grandfather was with her- checks were minimal. For some reason it was smelling of either rotten bananas or smelly socks. She couldn't decide which, but she was relieved either way to be outer of that place.

The wind blew so hard as if to invite these foreigners who had never before stepped on American soil. This was New York. She had been told to get a windbreaker beforehand, and now as her braids were blown in the direction of the wind she understood why.
16°C was a temperature experienced in July in Kenya. Winds like these came with soil particles and other paraphernalia so this was actually not too bad a thing to experience.

Her cousins were gracious enough to host them and when their schedules allowed, they would show her and her mother the best places to shop. Later, as her mother told her what plans she had for them to tour the US, she mentioned something which outrightly sounded very random but was a very fragile topic to discuss. Her mother had searched for her father on Google and it had yielded results! She could see the exact city he was in, the previous places he had there before called home, and if she zoomed in the map just right, she could even get to see which house was his.

These news were a lot to take. She wanted to call her someone, anyone really to tell of these news but it is like the airwaves had conspired against her. She was overwhelmed. She couldn't breathe. It was like a dream.

You see, growing up, she never had someone to call dad. Yes, her godfather was gracious enough to allow her to feel as though she had a father. But she knew deep down that it was him being courteous. Besides, no one shared a father unless they were from the same loins.

She had repeatedly told herself that she was okay. She didn't need her father to feel whole. But truth is, it was a lie. Everyday she was reminded of why fathers were important. Why she needed one. Even the prayers made for the fatherless at her church worked only for a short time. She still felt incomplete. Like a part of her was missing.  That sounded like a commentary from one of her favourite movies, but it was true. She wanted to know his it felt to have a father. She even wanted the bad about having a father- the overprotectiveness, the lectures...all of it! But she was older now. It was too late for that now. She had spent over twenty years waiting. What was she looking to get now that she had missed growing up?

Looking for a relationship with her father would be a stab in her mother's back. Without meaning to, she would show her mother that she had not done enough. Thanks but no thanks. Besides, his would she start? Would she knock on the door and say, " Hi, I'm your daughter. You know, that one you had some twenty years ago in Kenya?" Well, that was not going to happen; too much awkwardness in one moment.

There was an option of writing him a letter. She wondered what it would read..

"Dear Dad,

How have you been all my life. I don't know if you remember me, but I was told you were my father. Let me first begin by saying that I don't want any money from you, so you can relax on that front. However, if it's not too much to ask, I would like to get to know you. Well, I know you have another family so I will not pretend as if this is normal. It is good to know you exist.

Regards,
Your daughter"

That letter would probably be longer; a whole book even. Because she would want to know if he ever thought of her. If he even remembered that he had a daughter.  So that was not going to happen.

She could alternatively pick up the phone and call. She probably would be able to utter a word if she heard his voice, or her voice. She couldn't open that Pandora's box. It would be too much to handle. She was better off not knowing this person. After all, he had so much time to look for her. With social media, it was so easy to find her. But he did not even bother. So why would she?

Her sister from another mother advised her to pray about it. And that is what she is currently doing. Praying. Constantly praying. It is only God who can direct her path as regards her father. So keep it here to know what she decided.