My father never really had the best relationship with his kids. He was an alcoholic who came home drunk most of the time and caused commotion. It was hard for us but we had to deal with it.
I remember one August, when I was 17 years-old; my mother went to run some errands and left me at home with my older brother. He was 19 at the time and was working on our neighbor’s farm, digging.
I had been instructed to prepare food for both my older brother and my father when they arrived home.
My father came home drunk and headed towards my brother when he saw him digging at the farm. He was ‘angry’ already and started yelling at my brother for no good reason.
My brother had to hold back his anger because it seemed he was fed up with hiss drunken antics. He ignored father and kept on working on the farm. My father continued shouting at my brother and that was when I looked out the window to see what was going on.
Our neighbor who was irritated by all the noise told my brother to go back home and come back another time. So my brother took his jembe and started walking towards the shed.www.neemayetu.blogspot.com