We had been married for 13 years and were blessed with two children throughout that time. Ken was the love of my life, and we gladly shared our lives as fathers to my children in harmony with one another. My husband was a journalist who worked as an editor at a popular media station in Nairobi, and I worked as a medical professional at a public hospital in the town where we lived. Our children were a genuine source of happiness for our entire family.
They were important in bringing about that happiness and closeness between me and my hubby. When my husband was playing with them on our farm grounds and I was watching them from the balcony area, tears of delight poured out of my eyes. What concerned us as parents was that our children began to behave like newborns as time went on, despite the fact that they were not that young. Since both of us had achieved success in life, we had hoped that our children would follow in our footsteps and become true pioneers like their parents, but our hopes were dashed.
Things were not progressing as smoothly as we had hoped. Our older son, who appeared to be more intelligent than her sister, began to fall more behind in their class. He would occasionally find himself as the final student in their class. Things were also not going well with our younger daughter, who was falling farther and further behind in their class, and when she returned home, she would proudly proclaim that she was the first from the opposite page.
My husband was quite irritated by these events because he believed I was the source of the problem. He went so far as to claim that the intellect genes are always passed down through the feminine gender.
These comments were almost painful for me since I never imagined that my spouse, whom I adored, would say something so sad. It was only after some time had passed that things began to deteriorate even worse. Every time I was summoned to school, I was lectured on the fact that my children required extensive coaching. Even before me, some teachers referred to them as "dwarves." Others would argue that they were incapable of being taught.
This was really upsetting to me since no parent would ever want to hear such comments spoken to his or her children. At home, my husband had now claimed that I had given birth to children who were not very intelligent. Occasionally, he would tell his buddies that I was a source of embarrassment for him. He went so far as to say that a prominent figure of his stature deserved better treatment from me.
He had threatened to kick me and our children out of our home on several occasions because they were not as academically accomplished as he was. All of the guilt was placed on my shoulders. Each of us had a role to perform as parents because we had both welcomed the little innocent souls into our lives with the two of us as a unit.
He returned home one day appearing much more hostile than he had been. He tossed us out onto the street, and we had nowhere to go. It was a pity that I had to return to my parents' house, but I couldn't help myself.
When they saw me arriving with my vehicle at that moment, they burst into tears since they had already guessed that we would be splitting up. My children, too, screamed out in agony, calling their father. I felt completely powerless in front of my parents, and I also felt embarrassed of my actions at the moment. We spent a lot of time at my parents' house, and each of the kids would wonder what had happened to dad since they had never seen him behave in the manner that he had been the previous few days.
Time passed, and I saw no reason to be hopeful. I ran into Calvin, a childhood buddy who was curious about what had transpired. We met right in the reserve. Following my notification, he responded by saying he had an effective answer to my problem. He informed me that the next day he would transport me to Kiwanga Doctors in order to put an end to my condition once and for all.
When we arrived at the Kiwanga Doctors' offices, I was seen right away and given urgent attention. Two days after a visit to Kiwanga Doctors, I returned home to find that my husband had already made a whatsapp video call expressing his desire for us to be together once more. Aside from that, he showed me a video of piles of clothing that needed to be laundered and even stated that he had not eaten for two days because no one was there to look after him. Kiwanga Magic was expressing itself in a loud and clear manner.
We were together once more. We later changed the school where our children were attending. They started to put in some good work. My older son went on to become a doctor, just as I did. Our daughter became a lawyer, and she became an eminent lawyer after being hired into the senior counsel's office.
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