Miria’s Coldness

Asukai

Rain started falling in gentle drops as Asu left the university, blanketing the city of Nairobi in a soft relentless shower. Pedestrians walked fast hoping to avoid getting soaked.

Asu Kinga matched her fellow pedestrian’s pace, adjusting the hold on her umbrella and hating the wetness growing in her rubber shoes. She should have worn a pair of good leather shoes this morning but she had not paused to think about the weather. She was lucky she always carried an umbrella in her bag.

Asu hurried along the street, walking fast toward the footbridge that would get her into the main town. Her bookbag felt heavy on her shoulders. Instead of dwelling on the discomfort, her thoughts lingered on her pending homework assignments, the worries of how to replenish her dwindling pocket money fund, and catching a bus ride to her family home in South C.

She was a second-year student at the University of Nairobi, majoring in history and archeology. A major her father insisted was a waste of time. He would have preferred she take on economy or education. Asu had no desire to be an economist, nor could she explain her unrelenting need to discover more about the past. She had accepted that she was a resounding disappointment to her father.

As for her mother, Asu let out an unconscious sigh.

Miria Kinga had no opinion on her choices. Asu sometimes wondered if they were even related. She was glad Miria had no opinion though. If Miria asked about it, she was afraid she would change her major just because her mother voiced an opinion on her life.

Shaking her head, Asu hurried into the central business district in search of a matatu to get her to South C.

Twenty minutes later found Asu sitting in the backseat of a relatively quiet matatu. She paid her fare and reached for her buzzing phone to find a message from her younger sister, Hera.

Asu smiled as she opened the message on WhatsApp. Hera wanted to know what time she was coming home.

When will you get here, Sis? You know we're going to Grandma's tomorrow, right? We need to pack up for the month.

Asu grinned and answered the message.

'Already on the way. I'll be home soon. You can start packing without me.

'Not really, it's not as fun. Hurry. I'm waiting for you.'

'Sawa, I'll be there.' (Ok)

Asu smiled when her sister sent her an excited GIF. She started to turn off the messaging app but then paused when she saw a new notification. She opened the message from Professor Hardy.

'Take good care of the book I gave you. The owner may want it back and we don't want to ruin the relationship over an old book.'

Asu smiled at the gentle warning and replied that she would be careful with the book. Putting away her phone, Asu opened her book bag and pulled out the brown envelope with the old book. She retrieved the old book from the envelope and sat staring at the dated leather cover used to bind it together. The front had no title but it had the shape of the fig embedded in the old leather.

Asu ran a finger over the fig with reverence. She wanted to open the book and discover why her professor wanted her to read it. But one glance out the window and she decided not to indulge herself.

Her stop was close and she was at the back of the fourteen-seater public van. She dumped the book into her book bag and made sure to zip the bag tight.

“Shukisha!” (Stop) Asu soon called out when it was her turn, and the tout opened the door, prompting the driver to pull to the side at her stop.

*****

Their home was a four-bedroom cottage surrounded by stone walls and a black gate along a quiet street. Their neighbors were laid back, and preferred privacy, so it was rare to find too much activity on their road. Asu used her key to unlock the side gate when she reached.

She entered the gate to the sound of Hera’s dog barking her welcome. Asu paused to greet the white fluffy dog when it came racing from the open front door to greet her. She crouched down to pet the little poodle’s head as it tried its best to climb into her arms.

Asu did not lift the little thing instead, she smoothed its fur with a small smile. She preferred cats, but their mother would not allow her to get one.

“Asu!”

Hera raced out of the house, shouting her enthusiasm as she threw herself into Asu’s arms.

Asu dropped her book bag on the ground and wrapped her arms around Hera. Her younger sister was growing taller than her. She was skinny thanks to months in boarding school. Hera was in her second year of high school. They only saw each other during school holidays. Asu hugged Hera tight.

“I missed you too,” Hera said when Asu buried her face into her shoulder and rubbed her back in a soothing motion.

Asu smiled at the warm welcome. Then, Hera let go of her and took her bags.

“Come in,” Hera said. “Mom has a meeting today. The women from the area are here. You know how it gets.”

Asu nodded, knowing she was going to start a wash and clean session in the kitchen soon. Miria Kinga may have a house manager, but her daughters were supposed to help with the cleaning, especially when there were guests. Well, mostly her eldest daughter had to clean.

Inside the house, Asu let out a soft sigh as she pulled out her best smile. Hera carried her bags past the living room, but Asu needed to greet their mother’s friends. Asu moved from one lady to the next, offering her hand in a cordial greeting. When she reached her mother, Miria took her hand in a limp greeting and accepted her hug because everyone was watching.

“You’re here,” Miria said in greeting. “Help with the dishes. There is food in the kitchen.”

Asu nodded and followed her sister to the kitchen. There, she found Mercy the housekeeper already busy with dinner preparations and a pile of dishes waiting at the sink. Before she could place her bag down, she heard Miria from behind her.

“Asu, you help Mercy,” Miria said. “Hera, start packing up for the month at your grandmother’s place. You’re always so lazy about it. Make sure you don’t forget anything.”

Hera gave an exaggerated sigh but turned away from the kitchen as her mother urged.

Miria paused at the door to look at Asu with a complicated glance. Asu spent a few minutes trying to decipher what Miria was thinking, but then, it was impossible to figure out her mother. Miria shrugged and walked back to the living room, leaving Asu standing in the middle of the kitchen, conflicted.

“She’s always so strict with you,” Mercy said, from her position at the counter. Her hands were wrist-deep in dough. “The moment you come home and you’re already in the kitchen.”

Mercy shook her head and Asu shrugged at the painful slight. She placed her bag on the kitchen table and stretched out her arms to shake off the sting.

“Come and hug me, Asu. I’m glad you’re home,” Mercy said, looking at her.

Asu crossed the room to hug Mercy from the back. Mercy chuckled when she let go.

“There is tea in the flask over there,” Mercy nodded to a large flask she used for visitors. “There are samosas in the hotpot next to the flask. Eat something before you start helping in the kitchen.”

“You’re the best,” Asu hugged Mercy again, rubbed her back, and went to the sink to wash her hands. She got herself a clean mug and a small plate and went to pour herself some tea. She was hungry.

“How is your Professor Hardy?” Mercy asked as she kneaded the dough for chapatis.

“Still interesting,” Asu said, as she savored the warm samosas from the hotpot. “He has me labeling samples from a dig his team did in northwest Kenya. There are so many interesting discoveries in our country. You wouldn’t believe how deep the past is within our borders. I get excited every time I get the chance to check it out.”

Mercy smiled at her.

“You and the past. I think you caught a bug when you were little and all you want to learn is history. You should plan to make some history too.”

“As soon as I graduate,” Asu said. “I’ll find a job that allows me to rent a nice place. I can’t wait to be out on my own.”

“What about Hera?” Mercy asked.

Asu stared at the last bit of her samosa for a minute, then shrugged.

“Mama will take care of her most. I doubt she’ll miss me.”

“You don’t believe that,” Mercy said, shaking her head. “Hera loves you most.”

“I love her too.” Asu ate the last bit of samosa and let out a happy moan as it hit the spot. “Still, we’re on different levels. She doesn’t need to work as hard as me to get anything. Mama will make sure she gets everything she needs. Me, I have to fight for it.”

She met Mercy’s gaze when the housekeeper turned to look at her.

Mercy let out another sigh making Asu chuckle.

Asu finished her tea and was closing the hotpot with the samosas when Hera walked in and went to the fridge.

“I can help you start packing, Asu,” Hera said as she retrieved a bottle of orange juice. She closed the door and leaned on it to study Asu.

“No,” Asu said, knowing Miria would curse her out if she found Hera helping to pack her clothes. “I’ll get to it after I finish in here with Mercy.”

“You can trust me too,” Hera said, her gaze pleading.

“It’s okay, Hera,” Asu said and pointed to her book bag. “You can take the book bag to my room though. I think I’ll be here a while.”

Hera sighed and reached for the heavy bag.

“You don’t let me do anything for you,” Hera said, as she carried out the bookbag. “One of these days, you’re going to have to trust me too.”

Asu watched her little sister walk out of the kitchen.

“She will never see it your way,” Mercy said, voicing her thoughts. “To her, Miria is a good mother to both of you. She thinks Miria’s harder on you because you’re her big sister. She tries to take on some of the trouble coming your way, but it will never be enough. Don’t hold it against her.”

Asu let out a sigh and shrugged.

Their mother’s treatment of Asu was too hard to explain. She had no time to figure out if Hera had noticed the differences. It was hard enough surviving in this house.

“I can’t wait until school starts again,” Asu said, taking her mug to the sink.

Mercy chuckled.

At the sink, Asu turned on the tap to fill a basin. She arranged the mugs to be washed on the sink counter, emptying used teabags and collecting teaspoons into a small pile. The water in the basin overfilled and she reached for the tap to close the water. Her right hand skimmed over the water in the basin, and the overflowing water stilled, halting on its path to the drain.

Asu stared at the still waters a small frown creasing her forehead. This was not the first time. She moved her hand, and the water flowed back to the basin, waiting even though the basin was overfilled. Taking a clean jug from the rack on her left, she scooped out some water in the basin, and the water settled at a good level.

Asu stood at the sink studying the water in the basin. Her way with water scared her. One time, while washing dish rugs at the back of the house, she tipped over a basin filled with clean water. In the shock of the spill, she threw out her hands as though to stop the basin from pouring out its contents. The next thing she knew, the water stopped in midair, and when she righted the basin, it returned into the basin as though the spill never started. There were other moments too, scattered, and hidden secret encounters with water that happened when she was alone and comfortable with no one to ask why water was acting strange around her. She shared these secrets with no one.

Their community was too suspicious, too judgmental, and too scared of anything paranormal, she was afraid Miria would demonize her. Turn her into a pariah in a world where she already felt left out.

“What are you thinking about at the sink?” Mercy asked, pulling her back to the moment.

Asu glanced at Mercy with a small smile and placed the jug of water on the side.

“I was thinking about the homework Professor Hardy gave me,” Asu said, smoothing over her silent moment. She started washing the dozen tea mugs that the visitors used for tea. “He gave me work to complete this holiday. He wants me to send him notes throughout the month. I’m hoping I’ll be able to give the work justice.”

“Isn’t that unfair? It’s your holiday time,” Mercy protested, overturning her dough.

Asu smiled because as much as she lacked warmth from her mother, she received it from unexpected places. Mercy was the only one who often showed concern about her heavy school obligations.

“I don’t mind,” Asu said, turning away from the sink to smile at Mercy with a heart full of gratitude.

Asu continued washing dishes but she was soon sorry that she had no time to dress down. The waters might move at her will during unexpected moments, but they surely soaked her blouse when she was washing dishes. Her nice blouse was soaked and she needed a change.

It was hard to get away for a private minute though. She was pulled into the whirlwind of dish-washing, offering fresh drinks and snacks to their guests, and helping to make food for the evening. By the time she caught her breath, her shoulders ached, and she just wanted to sleep until morning. It was also late into the evening. Mercy was the only one to understand her exhaustion.

After a quick meal in the kitchen with Mercy, Asu went to her room and bit back a groan when she found Hera lying on her stomach in the middle of her bed. Asu’s book bag was open next to her. Hera was reading the old book with the fig on the cover.

“Where did you get this book?” Hera asked, holding up the old leather book Professor Hardy had given her.

Asu fought back the urge to protest her sister’s clear invasion of privacy, but it was useless to try. Hera always did what she wanted, always in Asu’s world whether she wanted it or not. Always digging through her bags for discoveries.

“Professor Hardy gave it to me,” Asu said, choosing truth. “It’s supposed to be part of a project he wants to start. He gave me the book to read and write comprehensive notes. I am to return it when the holiday ends.”

Hera nodded and sat up. She looked pretty in a pink dress decorated with yellow flowers. Her hair was in long braids. Asu was sure Hera had called their hairdresser the moment she returned from boarding school to get the braids.

Asu sat next to Hera and took the book from Hera. This time there was no vibration or reaction. Perhaps it was because Hera had opened it. She could not tell. The open page had a set of four nineteen-forties pictures. Hera pointed to the first picture on the left page.

“Doesn’t this look like grandma’s gate?” Hera asked, touching the picture. “This huge white bougainvillea covers the gate pillars just like grandma’s, right? The wide-open blue gate at her place is also like this, right?

Asu frowned as she studied the pictures. The half-closed gate did have similar designs, but the picture was black and white. She could not tell whether it was blue or black. The bougainvillea plant was hard to ignore though. The one in the picture grew high above the gate pillars in the same way as the one at her grandmother’s home.

The road outside the gate was a dirt road like the present road too.

“It can’t be,” Asu said, her gaze shifting to the other three pictures. There were two pictures with the massive bougainvillea fence that grew at her grandmother’s gate. One had the road leading up to the open gates with similar markings. The similarities were many, but this could be a coincidence.

“If this is grandma’s gate, why would these pictures be in this book?” Asu asked with a frown.

“I’ve read the first part of the book. The author is discussing a timeless farm called Fig Hill Farm. It’s a she and she does not name the location of the farm,” Hera said. “However, the pictures and the fact that the farm is filled with orange trees at some point made me think of grandma’s farm.”

“Fig Hill,” Asu’s expression turned thoughtful. “You know, our cousin Prisca once said that grandma’s farm used to be called Fig Hill when she was young. Then, she changed it to Kinga Farm when Dad was born.”

“Weird how there is someone who has documented grandma’s place,” Hera said.

“Strange,” they both concluded at the same time and burst out into a laugh.

Miria appeared at the bedroom door at that moment, and leaned on the doorframe, signaling the end of the women’s meeting.

“All packed up?” Miria asked, her gaze on Hera, and then she turned an expectant gaze on Asu.

“Soon,” Asu said, closing the book, and placing it on her bed to look at later.

“Good,” Miria said, holding Asu’s gaze. “Your dad will drop you off at your grandmother’s home this time. Don’t leave anything that you think is important to you here. You may not get another chance to return for it.”

Asu frowned at her mother’s tone. The wording was also strange. She was sure the warning was meant for her and not Hera.

Why would she have no other chance to return here?

“Mama, aren’t you coming to grandma’s later?” Hera asked, frowning. “You can always bring anything we need with you when you drive over.”

“No,” Miria said, shifting her gaze back to Hera. “It will only be you girls this time. Hurry up with your packing. It will be good if you sleep early today. I don’t want your dad to have a hard time waiting to get you up in the morning.”

Hera frowned as she stared at their mother.

Asu stood and went to pull out her suitcase from her closet. Miria gave her an approving nod, and for a moment, Asu was sure she saw a moment of triumph in her gaze. The look faded as soon as it appeared.

“Come on, Hera,” Miria said, holding out her hand to Hera. “I’ll help you pack so that you don’t forget anything. We’ll leave you to it, Asu.”

Asu stared after them for a while, hating the burning growing in her chest. She opened her suitcase and wondered what it was about her mother’s attitude toward her that irked her. Weren’t they mother and daughter? Why did Hera get all Miria’s smiles? Why did Miria not want to help her pack? The stings were many with no salve to heal them.

Shaking her head, Asu’s gaze shifted to the book on the bed, and she pushed the suitcase aside. She reached for the book and sat on her bed to read an interesting account of a farm that seemed to have existed for hundreds of years. The similarities to her grandmother’s farm grew with each page. The author spoke of a farm that stayed untouched through extreme political turmoil, and disease outbreaks, always flourishing no matter the weather season, and a family that guarded the farm’s secrets for eternity.

Asu read the journal into the deep night and ended up packing her bags in a mad rush in the morning. Miria scolded her when she was late getting to breakfast and finding her shoes when it was time to go.

Asu made sure to carry her favorite book bag filled with necessities like chewing gum, toiletries, her favorite lotion, and a novel to get through the worst of boredom. She included the old diary she had read all night and a round amulet her grandmother had given her when she was very young. The items in her bookbag were her most important trinkets, the rest of the stuff in her suitcase could be considered her daily clothes and shoes.

Hera hugged their mother goodbye and received a tight one in return.

When it was Asu’s turn, she received a firm handshake and a pat on her ponytail. She entered her father’s car in the backseat while Hera sat in the front passenger seat.

“Ready?” Muruthi asked when they settled.

Asu met his gaze in the rear-view mirror and smiled when Muruthi winked at her. He noticed Miria’s coldness toward Asu, but he never mentioned it or tried to rectify it. Asu could only assume there was nothing that could be done with Miria’s attitude.

Oh well, it was enough she could still call her mom.

“Ready,” Hera said, wearing her seatbelt.

“Let’s go!” Muruthi said, starting the car. “Hera, you choose the tunes, and Asu, share out the snacks when we need them. Okay. We’ll be at grandmother’s in no time.”

Asu smiled at her father’s infectious enthusiasm, and as the car took off, she forgot her mother’s indifference as she soaked in the freedom of a drive to her grandmother’s highland farm.

*****

Chapter Two | Table of Contents | Chapter Four