Brian Misiko Autobiography
My name is Brian Misiko Aling’aling’a. My parents names are Nixon Misiko and Agiripina Andeka. I was born on 19th June 1998 in Kakemega county in the western region of Kenya. When I was about seven months old my father brought his girlfriend home and said she would be his new wife. My mother was very angry and very sad.
She decided to go away, but after doing something terrible to punish my father. She waited when none was around and then put the house on fire. I’m lucky that she decided to keep the children safe. If her anger had driven her mad enough we may have seen the sun for the last time. From there I started living with my grandfather.
They fed me with cow milk until I weaned. At that time my grandmother was just suffering because of having to care for me. My mother was nowhere to be found. Even my father was just seeing me suffering but he couldn’t help. My grandmother took care of me until I was one and half years. I started calling my grandmother my mother. My elder sister was also living with my grandmother.
When I joined school I still lived with my grandparents although my father and my step-mother were there. They had built a new house. School was boring to me and I did not like it. I didn’t understand what the teacher said. I was very lazy and refused to write. This drove the teacher mad. She beat me and forced me to write. I did not care about reading and writing. I disliked my friends because they listened and got it right. That left me alone in a big trouble. I thought my teacher hated me because she was not my mother. I wanted my mother because I felt she would be nicer to me. I wished I was big enough to knock the teacher down, whenever she beat me. I became more un co-operative and did not concentrate on what she was saying. That made me to be last in my class.
I had to repeat nursery school. My new teacher was surprised at my behavior. She went to ask my grandmother what was the matter with me. Grandmother explained that she needed my mother who was an outcast. It’s a taboo to burn a house where I come from. Anyway my teacher became concerned with me. She started to treat me as my mother. I felt better. She gave sweets and presents and promised to reward me if I wrote anything at all. She made me to complete nursery school successfully. In primary school I was back to my old problem. Teachers in primary school are not baby sitters. I quickly hated them but learnt they would never use sweets and gifts but canes! I had to do my part this time whether I liked it or not.
When I was nine years old my mother remembered me. I had not forgotten my need for my mother. My aunt brought home to me a pack of presents from my mother. My heart beat very fast with excitement. There were some clothes and toys! I was very happy. I got my first pair of shoes. You should have seen me in my new shoes. I bounced up and down the village road to show to everyone. My friends envied me. Few children wear shoes in Kakamega. My father saw all this and felt something like he had failed. My sister ran to him to show him that she had new books and pens. He decided to go and look for job in Nairobi. After a year he came home.
A few years ago, I visited my father in Nairobi. I was still not doing well in school. He was trying to encourage me. He promised to live and study in Nairobi. I started working hard to please him. My results improved. This is my final year in primary. If I don’t pass my exam I will be forced to repeat it next year or drop out of school. I want to pass and go with my friends to secondary school. My father heard me explaining that so he brought me to Nairobi in December and started looking for someone to help me. That’s when he met Mr. Daniel of Hamomi Children’s Centre. My sister is now in form two in a secondary school. I met Susie Marks. She assured us not to worry, she was going to the U.S.A to help us. Thanks to Hamomi.
P.S— I still need to see my mum but right now I’m a big boy and I’m very busy.