3.SHADOWS OF THE UNKNOWN

A few years after my graduation, Dad came home one night in the early days of October with lots of shopping bags in his hands. He had bought foodstuffs and begged Mom to let him cook dinner for us. Mom agreed, excited, as it was the first time in years that her husband would be in the kitchen. We were thrilled but unsure of what to expect.

I, being as curious as a cat, decided to satisfy my curiosity by running towards the kitchen to witness everything. Father said he was going to cook mukimo, fried tilapia, grilled chicken, roasted beef, greengram stew, rice, and chapatis. He was also going to prepare pineapple juice.

The kitchen was a flurry of activity as Dad got to work. He started with the mukimo, a traditional dish made from mashed potatoes and green vegetables. The first step was to peel the potatoes. Once he was done, he washed them before placing them in a pot on the fire to boil. As he waited for the potatoes to boil, he prepared the tilapia by first cleaning and seasoning the fish with a blend of spices.

He then coated the tilapia in a light layer of flour. Once the potatoes had boiled, he poured out the remaining water and set the potatoes aside. He then placed a pan on the fire with oil to fry the coated tilapia fish. He mashed the potatoes as the oil heated up. He then fried the fish in hot oil until the exterior was golden brown and crispy. The result was a deliciously crunchy crust that encased the tender, flaky fish inside. The tilapia was served with a squeeze of lemon, enhancing its mild, savory flavor before being placed next to the fried mukimo.

Next, Dad moved on to the chicken. He marinated the chicken pieces with a mix of spices and herbs, ensuring they were well-coated. The marinade included ingredients like garlic, ginger, lemon juice, and a blend of spices such as paprika, cumin, and black pepper.

The chicken was left to absorb these flavors for a few minutes. Once marinated, dad grilled the chicken over medium-high heat, turning occasionally until it was cooked through and had a beautiful charred exterior. The result was juicy, flavorful chicken with a smoky aroma that made our mouths water.

He then turned his attention to the beef. Dad chose a prime cut of beef, seasoned it generously with salt, pepper, garlic, and rosemary. He seared the beef on all sides in a hot pan to lock in the juices and create a flavorful crust. After searing, he placed the beef in the oven to roast slowly at a low temperature. This method ensured the beef was tender and cooked to perfection, with a rich, savory flavor that melted in your mouth.

For the green gram stew, dad sautéed onions and tomatoes in a pot, adding the green grams and spices to create a rich and hearty stew. The aroma of the simmering stew filled the kitchen, adding to the anticipation of the meal.

The rice, with a touch of coconut juice, was cooked to fluffy perfection. It was whiteas snow and it's aromafilledtheentirekitchen. The chapatis, which contained grated carrots, were rolled out and fried until they were soft and slightly crispy on the edges. Dad's final touch was the fresh pineapple juice, which he made by blending ripe pineapples into a refreshing drink.

The kitchen was filled with the delicious smells of the various dishes, and I couldn't wait to taste everything. When Dad finally finished cooking, I helped him place the food on the dining table and decorated the dining room to which looked better than a private room in a five-star hotel. My siblings were greeted with a beautifully set table and a feast that was truly a labor of love.

As we were enjoying the delicacies, suddenly, Lemuel broke the pin-drop silence by announcing he was going on a business trip to the coast for a month. The news hit us like a thunderbolt, shattering the joyful atmosphere.

Mom's face fell instantly. Her eyes, which had been sparkling with happiness just moments before, now brimmed with unshed tears. She tried to put on a brave face, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her. "A whole month?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought of being apart from her husband for so long was almost unbearable.

Jewel, who had been laughing and chatting animatedly, suddenly went quiet. He stared at his plate, pushing the food around with his fork. The excitement of the evening drained away, replaced by a heavy sadness. He had always looked up to Dad, and the idea of not having him around for a month was hard to digest.

As for me, I felt a lump form in my throat. The room seemed to close in around me, and the delicious food I had been savoring now tasted bland. Dad had always been our rock, the one who brought stability and joy to our lives. The thought of him being away for so long filled me with a sense of dread and loneliness.

Dad, noticing our reactions, tried to reassure us. "It's just a month," he said gently, "and I'll be back before you know it." But his words did little to comfort us. The reality of his absence loomed large, casting a shadow over the evening.

The rest of the meal was eaten in a somber silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. The joy and laughter that had filled the room earlier were replaced by a heavy, palpable sadness. It was the first time Dad would be away from us for such a long period, and the uncertainty of it all weighed heavily on our hearts.

The following day, we woke up ready to face the day, though a heavy sadness hung over us. This was the day Dad was to depart, and we had no choice but to say goodbye before heading out to school. The house was unusually quiet, and none of us had the appetite for breakfast. The weight of Dad's impending absence filled us to the brim with sorrow.

Dad was running late, needing to catch his flight in the next hour and a half. We gathered by the door, our hearts heavy, as he hurriedly packed his final things. When the taxi arrived, we knew the moment had come. We hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go, and whispered our goodbyes. His reassuring smile did little to ease the ache in our hearts.

As Dad boarded the taxi, we watched him drive away, feeling a profound sense of loss. We then headed to the bus stage, waiting patiently for our school buses to come and pick us up. The minutes felt like hours as we stood there, each of us lost in our thoughts.

In what seemed like a fraction of a second, our buses arrived. We boarded them, waving goodbye to Mom, who stood there with a brave face, wishing us a blessed day. As the bus pulled away, I couldn't help but glance back, seeing her standing alone, a small figure against the backdrop of our home.

The ride to school was unusually quiet. The usual chatter and laughter were replaced by a somber silence. Each of us was grappling with the reality of Dad's absence, trying to find comfort in the routine of the day ahead.

Dad's new venture was like a house of cards built on a shaky foundation. The company failed for numerous reasons, and all his hard-earned savings vanished like smoke in the wind. He soon realized that his so-called friend had deceived him, eyeing his position at the company all along. Dad's return was nothing short of a miracle.

During the two months he was away, Mom believed he was on a business trip. Little did she know, our lives were about to change drastically. As the days turned into weeks, and Dad's phone remained unreachable, Mom decided to take matters into her own hands. With the money running out, she moved us to a remote village and started a cereal and grocery business.

Mom's cereal and grocery business was a beacon of hope during a challenging time for our family. When Dad's venture failed and he disappeared, Mom took the reins and steered us towards stability with her entrepreneurial spirit.

With our savings dwindling and Dad unreachable, Mom decided to move us to a small, remote town. The town was charming, with dusty roads and friendly faces. It was here that Mom saw an opportunity. She rented a modest shop space with the little money we had left and started her cereal and grocery business.

The shop was a cozy little place with shelves lined with various cereals, grains, and everyday groceries. The aroma of fresh produce and spices filled the air, making it a welcoming spot for the locals. Mom named it "Harvest Haven," a name that symbolized abundance and hope.

Mom was like a lioness protecting her cubs. She worked tirelessly, waking up before dawn to stock the shelves and staying late to balance the books. Her hands, once soft and delicate, became toughened from the hard work. But she never complained. Instead, she wore a smile that could light up the darkest room.

The village people quickly took a liking to Mom. Her warm personality and genuine care for her customers made Harvest Haven a popular spot. She often gave advice on cooking and nutrition, and sometimes, she would slip an extra handful of grains into a customer's bag, saying, "A little extra for a rainy day."

It was a typical evening at our new home in the remote town. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. We were gathered around the dinner table, the aroma of Mom's delicious stew filling the air. The clinking of cutlery and the hum of conversation created a cozy, familiar atmosphere.

Suddenly, there was a creak at the door. We all turned to see a figure standing in the doorway. At first, we didn't recognize him. His skin was darker, he looked taller, and he had lost a significant amount of weight. His clothes hung loosely on his frame, and his eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow and relief. It was Dad.