Missing

The following story is not based on true events and the mentioned names do not represent true characters. This is a fictional story based on the incidents of missing children happening in our surrounding.

Her smile lit up the room whenever she shows up. Her laughter always breaks the silence and kills all the boredom in the atmosphere. She has three kinds of laughter… very distinct but interesting all together. There’s one she laughs because she found something very funny or totally hilarious. Whenever she laughed like this she would call either me or her daddy. “Daddy see this one!” or “Mummy! this one is funny!” For a whole entire minute she would laugh and repeat the same statements like all of you should find this funny and laugh with me. She had this other laughter when she wasn’t laughing but imitating someone’s else’s laughter in a short precise time. This was just to sarcastically signify that you weren’t really funny but I laughed just to keep the conversation going. Most times she would imitate her grandmother’s laughter…“Woi! Hahahaha ta rore!” The last laughter was the cheeky laughter. She would laugh and immediately you had to ran up to her to find out what she was really up to. This was just satisfactory laugh to show she was proud of what mess she had created. Those three laughters kept echoing in my head over and over again and there are times I actually imagined her sitting in the living at her favorite corner and making her normal mess. I would later hear my mum yell…” Cera I will beat you if you don’t stop doing that!” However, at this particular time, the house was silent. Everyone was in their room dead asleep probably dreaming of her in their own favorable way. I was seated in the kitchen floor overlooking the sitting room wondering where she could be and how was I going to find her.

It had been a year since I last saw Cera. She was my first born daughter named after my mother in law. I had never known attachment until I gave birth to her. She would have been turning 8 years now. I didn’t think it would have been this hard to find one little girl after she went missing during her birthday party.

Birthdays for me have always been a big deal. It almost like a thanksgiving party to appreciate the years, obstacles, achievements, challenges that you have gone through and some of them survived. I love celebrating birthdays, from mine, to my husbands and now my kids.  Cera seemed to have taken after me with the celebratory spirit. She was always the first to wake up on the morning of everybody’s birthday, She had mastered all the dates and knew them to the heart. This was going to be her 7th birthday and as usual she was the first to wake up in the house. “Mummy! Daddy! Wake up its my birthday!”

She had her dress ready from the day before. She knew exactly what she wanted. This year the unique theme was a panda themed party and everyone in the house had a panda outfit ready to represent Cera’s little world and thrill for Pandas. Don’t ask where I got grown ups Panda outfits but my husband knew someone who knew someone who was related to someone but you get the point. We aim to please and not disappoint.

The day was finally here. We all had roles to play. I was mostly everywhere with the preparations in the house. From the decorations, to the food, to the outfits, the toys and the outside play area. Everything had to be perfect because that’s how my mind operates. My husband’s duty was the shopping errands and the youngest’s chaperone. They are a great pair those ones. A father and his little parrot machine with whom they tag a long everywhere like two peas in a pod. I silently think the last born girl was a special gift to him. They love each other dearly, it is almost unfair to the rest of us. It is almost like we don’t exist once they get into their comfort corner. Daddy and Wamaitha are just the perfect and noisy pair in the house. My mum’s duty that she had assigned herself is screaming orders like a true kikuyu mum as she stands over the chefs making sure they have put the right amount of salt because she is wary of diseases in her old age but not really.

The party began at one o’clock. my siblings had arrived and had taken over my house already. My two younger sisters were in my extra bedroom fitting into their new clothes that they had generously given to themselves from my closet. My only brother was seated at the balcony acting as the bartender for the day and my eldest sister was busy gossiping with my mum at the dinning area. I am not sure what exactly they were saying but they seemed very pleased with themselves. My in-laws had taken over the serving and running after their children to either feed or not knock over the other guests. My house was a complete circus but exactly what Cera loved to see. Her family all in one place at her beck and call.

I really wish I would have stayed outside the whole time to watch over her as they played. I wish I checked that there was someone to watch her at every second. Maybe I wasn’t paranoid enough. I should have paid more attention. But how would I have known that this would be the last time I would ever see my Cera again? I am too trusting or maybe I am just not a good mother? This shouldn’t have happened if I was a good mother. I didn’t want to be overbearing and end up spoiling my kids to be too dependent on me. I wanted to raise responsible humans, not minions who will always cling to me. Was I wrong to have given them a little freedom to play on their own outside in a gated neighbourhood where we pay a good lump some for security or I was being too carefree? My head is spinning, I wish I could magically wish her back to me.

At around two o’clock, most children had had their lunch and rushed out to play. Cera led the pack to the play area downstairs behind our small yard. There was a bouncing castle, a slide and inflated pool. Some parents had stepped outside to keep an eye on their children as they played. Some were enjoying some grownup time at the balcony and in the house as they sip their whisky and red wine and indulge in adult conversation. Everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves in the manner a party should be except the two newborns who kept wailing and Wamaitha who was separated from her first love to go and play with other children as my husband tries to catch up with his friends and family arguing about current affairs. Wamaitha’s screams and endless cry for attention was getting on my nerves so I decided to take her outside myself and asked the nanny to keep an eye on the kids in the play area as I try get Wamaitha to finally sleep. Terrible Threes are a handful.

I once grabbed a young girl in the supermarket thinking it was my Cera. She had the same ponytail that Cera used to love on her. I used to do her hair on Saturday evening especially when she had undone her school-going lines that she utterly hated. The girl’s mum was significantly upset and would drawn her claws at me if it wasn’t for the security guard behind me. I looked like a crazy person crying and wailing as I explained that I was looking for my Cera. It had been 3 months since she disappeared. My heart was beating too loudly in my ears. I couldn’t hear myself calling out her name. The security guard escorted me out of the Junction Mall and I had to take a matatu back home despite the fact that I had parked my car at the parking area. I had scared the shoppers. They all thought I was a mad woman. I would have thought so too, because I was walking around with unkempt hair and torn T shirt while going for shopping. I didn’t realize how shoddy I looked until my husband mentioned it when I got home. Everything had been blur for months. I had become a zombie walking in the streets looking at every child that passed me with suspicion that it would be my child. Any girl around my daughter’s age, within my vicinity could my Cera. I was slowly going mad and I couldn’t stop myself from feeling this way.

You could hear the happy screams and shouts from the play area as I parked the car. Wamaitha had finally fallen asleep and I was finally having some peace. I took her to my bed and asked my youngest sister to keep an eye on her as I take care of other hosting errands within my household. I got this nudge to go outside and check for my birthday girl and just glimpse at the happy smile she wore because she was having the birthday of her dreams. The joys of motherhood is somehow fulfilling your daughters fantasies and getting to watch her enjoy them. As I stood at the furthest corner of the play area, seeing it was the best position to watch everything at a go, I couldn’t see Cera. I moved closer to the bouncing castle to check if she was maybe inside and nothing, she wasn’t there either. The inflated pool was quite open and she wasn’t there either and neither was she at the slide. I decided maybe she was in the house munching on the snacks in the dinning area. I went back and silently looked for her with my eyes perusing at every corner. My husband noticed my awkwardness and came to ask me what was wrong. I mentioned that I couldn’t see Cera. He wasn’t worried. “It’s a party, she could be anywhere with her aunties, have you checked with Keshi?” I casually started asking everyone if they have seen my daughter but no one had seen her since they went outside to play. Time went by and it was now time to cut the cake. It had now become everyone’s duty to look for the birthday girl so that we can finally celebrate with cake. Isn’t that the whole purpose of Birthdays? Cake? It took about 15 minutes before we all realized that my baby was nowhere to be seen and so was the nanny. No one could remember where they had last seen her and neither could they remember the last events after seeing as clearly as we would have wanted.

I was already in tears because I seem to have realized my baby was missing way longer than everyone else but I didn’t want to imagine that this could actually be happening. The problem with having guests and more so a party, is that everything is happening at the same time and you have to be everywhere minding everybody without really knowing if something as horrific as this could happen. I couldn’t stand still, my heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest. My head was throbbing in immense pain and throat was completely dry in worry. How could I have lost my daughter on her birthday? I stomped off the house and took my car and started driving towards the main gate of our estate. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. I asked the guard if he had seen my daughter and the nanny and he said no. He hadn’t seen them. How is this possible? Is this a nightmare or a bad joke? How could he not have seen them? Those are two whole human beings! How could anyone miss that? I was frantic, agitated and a ball of fury. I don’t know how many people I asked or how long I drove but I ended up in Mai Mahiu with no fuel and stuck at the side of the road at 2 am. I was exhausted.

For the next few days, we camped at the police station in the mornings and evenings, visited every hospital, mortuary, playground, school and any other place we could think of. I wasn’t prepared for this. No one is prepared for this kind of frustration. I was slowly losing my mind and at some point I completely forgot I had another child.

I imagined what she could be feeling. Where did she go? Is she safe? Have they harmed her? Who took her? Was the nanny involved or was she also kidnapped? My mind went round and round in circles trying to find some sort of clues that could lead me to finding my daughter. We put up social media posts. Gave out money to strangers who claimed to have seen her. Why would anyone do this to someone else? Is this greed for money? She could have asked for money? I can’t believe I stayed with the nanny for three years. She is the only nanny Wamaitha had known. I had left her in the house so many times with the kids and she stayed. Why now? I want to believe she was also kidnapped. I really don’t know what to do? Does anybody know?

I have been in this dark place since I lost my daughter. Losing her like that is torture to the mind because she could be alive somewhere and suffering. She could be alive and living terribly thinking that her parents let her go. She could be crying everyday, she could be sick, she could be anything right now and I don’t know what to do. Will I ever find my child? Will she still know me? Will she forgive me? Will she forgive us?

Another day I cling to an 8 year old in the playground at Garden City. I didn’t do it in a scary way to attract unwarranted attention. I wanted to remember how it would feel to hug an 8 year old. My baby would be 8 years old and I have missed a whole year with her. The little girl was kind and hugged me back then she went back to the playground as she waved goodbye. Maybe she understood my emptiness. Maybe it was the universe telling me that my girl feels the same way. I miss you Cera, I wish I could find you. Come back to me.