I have never been a fan of Biblical names. Nope. Not at all. They leave one with a certain heaviness rolling from the tongue. For instance the name Rehoboam or Jehozika. Some names are cool, others are not.
I created Svala yesterday. A few minutes before midnight. When I was deep in some sort of hedonistic fusion between good reads and a bottle of whiskey. Svala has no recollections of her early childhood. She hails from Machakos in Kamba land. She has no idea of who her parents are. A better chunk of Svala’s life has been spent in orphanage homes and foster care till some man decided to adopt her. He took her in as his own daughter. Raised her, clothed her, educated her and gave her a roof over her head.
Raising Svala would be a tough decision for the man who adopted her. Svala would have to adapt, learn and try to get to know how the concept of a family works. She would have to learn to be a team player. He will struggle to bring her up, be present and assure her that everything would be alright. And that they would be a happy family.
But that has never been the problem according to her step father. Svala will learn, get good grades and join a prestigious highschool. After that she would enroll to the university. Then she would meet a guy. What is a good story without a guy? Of course in between she’d have heard several relationships. Some trial and error, while others would have just been for the moment. But this guy she met would be different. Different from the university guys who were always after what she had between her legs. This guy would take her to dates, treat her well. Well like a woman is supposed to be treated.
They’d go for movies, late night dinners, picnics, out of town trips and the likes. Svala will fall in love with this guy. The guy’s name would be Kirah. Svala would elope with Kirah. She would get married to him in an obnoxious manner. His people and her people won’t be involved. There would be no negotiations between both sides of their family. Svala decided to jump ships from a relationship into marriage. Well happily never after came with a baby a few months later. Then small small cracks decide to show. The cracks go on and on and become bigger wider gaps that would fill an entire lake.
Svala and Kirah used to live in a two bedroom apartment in Kizingo. Kirah had his own firm in the clearing and forwading avenue. Business wasn’t that well. Life was getting difficult. At the end of his wits. Kirah calls his mother and to try and see if she can bail him. Kirah’s mother suggests that they move back home.
Svala is unhappy about this but she moved with her husband to avoid quarells. Things take a rough turn. The first born arrives. It is a girl. They call her Zawadi. A present. It’s ironic how a baby could be a present when they were going through hard times. Four months down the line, Svala falls ill. She rushes to the hospital. She does not have money to take herself to a prestigious medical center. So she opts for the government one. She queues for about four hours. She gets to see the doctor and tells him of what she has been feeling lately. An ultra sound done. And she was two months pregnant. She wasn’t happy about it. It was too soon to have a baby. But she can’t abort it.
A few years will pass, the kids will have grown up and they would be in school. Shit will hit the fan hard and Svala will be sent parking. Svala doesn’t know where to go. Should she go back home to the man whom raised her as a daughter? How would she show her face when she deliberately ran away and got married?
She goes to her aunt’s place. Svala is thinking on how she’d get revenge on Kirah. Svala is 27 years old. She wants to feel love again. She wants to have an orgasm. She can’t call her exes. That would be too low. Who would take her back with baggage that came in the form of an even number?
Her aunt gives her a document containing Svala’s history. Svala is shocked at the turn of events. She indeed has biological parents. She was not given up for adoption. She was stolen from a certain popular hospital in the capital city. Her parents were given a dead baby. So her parents don’t know that their daughter Svala is alive. Maybe they would have given her another name, like Ruth, or Naomi or Magdalene. Something from the Bible that would go along the lines of hope, God’s love and other virtues of the Holy book.
Svala is clueless. She wants to chase after the wind to go and search for her biological parents. On the other hand Kirah is begging her to go back for the sake of the kids. But if it doesn’t work he will call her all sort of names and heckle her. Svala does not see Kirah as a man. She views him as a wimp who is carefree. Mummy’s boy.
Svala would one day leave her aunt’s place on a Friday evening. She would tell her aunt that she has gone for a movie night at a friend’s place. Her aunt is the cool type. She doesn’t mind. Svala will take an uber to Mwembe Tayari bus terminal. She would choose which bus she’d board. She has a thing for comfort. Svala would book a VIP seat of a certain popular bus company.
She will leave everything behind just to go back in time and look for her biological parents. Even if it is a single shred of proof, then she would be content. She will meet me, but I won’t tell her. I would just be another guy travelling from one city to another. I won’t tell her that things had to turn that way for her. I only created. The rest would be up to her decisions. After all one can never be in control of the decisions humans choose to make.
I would alight somewhere in some small town. I would let her live life and chase her dream. Her dream of finding love, family and reason for existence. She would be right about one thing. That humans would always go on searching, searching for their purpose and existence in this circle of life.