My Father’s Gun

My Father’s Gun

This year’s Father’s day was the 14th without my actual father being here to celebrate it with. Time moves fast and all that’s left is a slight resemblance with the man I see in my mirror each day and a few memories from my childhood that I hold on to.

I wasn’t really planning to write anything about him. It all seems futile – living in the past. I have been raised up by the best dad I could ask for in a man who took me in when my life turned upside down and there isn’t much more I could ask for. Reading through Arunga and Veon‘s blogs changed my mind though and I figured I’d share a little something something about the tree this apple fell from.

The first time I saw a real gun was way back while we still lived in Ruaraka GSU camp. Curiosity was a big part of my childhood and I was always fascinated by what my dad hid in the upper part of their bedroom wardrobe. I knew he carried a gun with him while going to work and a lot of urban legend stories had sprung up, mostly in my mind, about the man I looked up to.

One day while he was not in the room, I snack in, found a stool and went to see what kind of gun he carried around with him. I was scared of the thing, yet fascinated by it. Was it like the ones I saw in movies when I’d sneak from home, a five bob in my pocket, to go watch Rambo and Chuck Norris fight bad guys in Vietnam? If I touched it would it go off? I couldn’t risk it, so I had a peep and went on my way.

Writing this I wonder how many bad guys had fallen to the barrel of my father’s gun? In an age where the police are under scrutiny from all corners of society, it creates an internal turmoil and raises so many questions I will never have answers to. Yet, I will never believe that this man who brought me chips regularly after work was a bad guy.

In my head he was in league with the Rambos, Commandos and Chuck Norrises of my childhood. He was a hero risking his life every day to keep the city safe.

There are certain things you hold on to. And for me, one of this is the memory of a man who served his country well yet left all that behind at the end of the day and came home as the man who always had my back and even took me to the ASK show despite┬ámy mother’s disapproval. Lol.

I guess it is the burden of being a family man. You create a different world at home, with your family, to shield them from all the dangers that revolve around them each day. Salute to all the fathers out there, especially those in our security forces.

RIP Dad. I miss you so much.

Comment here...

3 thoughts on “My Father’s Gun”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.