Dear Daddy, My dearest Papa
I have sent everyone away, my husband, my children, I wanted to be alone to write to you Papa. I refuse to believe I will never receive a whatsapp voice note from you again, or a random video about black empowerment. Oh Daddy, I refuse to believe that you are now a memory, our chats, our little gossip sessions about Mum and her children. You said the funniest things, sometimes we debated aggressively about spiritual stuff, sometimes we disagreed about King Solomon, but most times we agreed Daddy, and you taught me so much Papa. You used to know how to tame me when I was so angry with Mum, and you would say, “No Jean, don’t do that, I know you listen to me, Daddy vako, she will get her Karma mwanangu.” I stopped myself from saying so much about her, because you told me, “don’t baby.” Then sometimes I wouldn’t listen to you, then I would write and write, and you would say, “It’s okay, Jean, I know you wanted to say everything that’s in your heart, it’s okay to write it all down.” Oh Papa, who will ever do that? Who will disagree with me yet agreeing with me at the same time, only you could do that. Oh Daddy, who do I rant to now, and say the craziest things in my head? You are the only person Daddy, that really understood me.
Oh Daddy, I am lost now. I don’t know how to carry on. Daddy I cant’ forgive them. They never told me you got sick so quickly. They never told me you had passed on. I had to find out on Facebook the next day. Oh Papa, you always told me to forgive, but Daddy I can’t, and I know you will understand that I can’t.
They robbed me of my chance to pray for you before you went. They robbed me of my chance to even call you and hear your voice, and say “Daddy I love you,” as you were just about to rest. Oh Papa, my dearest Papa, why did you allow them to do that? Your best friend called me yesterday, and he said he saw all my messages I used to send you, you would show him, and say, “Look what Jean said to me.” He said you even showed Kudzai, your son, my messages on your deathbed. So Why dear Papa, did you not tell them to call me? You let me find out on Facebook Daddy……………on Facebook Daddy. Oh I am so angry with you, but I have forgiven you, like I always did.
The day you passed on on Monday, that day I was so happy Daddy, I never knew that it was the day you were going, to that land you always sang about, the land far far far away as you sang. Ndavakuenda Kure Kure you always sang. I went out jogging on Monday, not knowing you lay on your sick bed.
As I was running, I was singing so happy. Then something incredible happened, something hit me lightly on my face. I didnt know what it was, but I felt it, it was a powerful feeling.
I came back home, and I as I was about to get into the shower, lo and behold there was bird poop on my face. My heart jumped. I love birds, they are always my messengers as I always write. I spiritualise everything as you know Daddy, so I thought the poop was a sign of blessing, an anointing. I thought the little birdy was a messenger of hope, so I took pictures, and started dancing.
I googled online about a bird pooing on you, and every article said it was a big sign of good luck and blessing. It said the chances of a bird pooing on you are as rare as winning the lottery. Some people go and buy a lottery ticket when birds poo on them, because it is so rare for that to happen. Oh Daddy, I did not know that the little birdy had come to tell me that you were going. I sent my husband a message about it, so excited, because I have been on a retreat at one of his apartments, I came to relax, paint and write my book, and I though God was telling me that good fortune was on my way, especially about publishing my book.
I was so happy on that day daddy, as I was telling my husband about the bird pooing on me and blessing me, he told me that there was a mystery bird stuck in the back garden. We thought the birds were saying something to us. Maybe the birds were trying to tell us Daddy, because your own children failed to tell me that you were dying. My children came to visit me at the apartment that day, and I took pictures of them. I had no idea Daddy, for no one told me that as I was laughing with my babies, you were going away.
But Daddy, I wanted to write you this letter, before they lay you to rest today. I was lucky Jane told me that you are being laid to rest today, I would not have even known that. They robbed me from being part of your death and funeral, but Papa, they can not take away my love for you, or how you loved me so.
Papa, they can not take away the truth that I was your favourite daughter, your favourite child, the beloved of Chief Mutota. The apple of your eye. It is me you told all the secrets of your Kingdom, Zimbabwe. Then I would blurt out the secrets of Zimbabwe you told me on my blog, then the next minute I would see the things I wrote about now updated on Wikipedia. You told me Daddy, that you are of royal blood, that you are the King of Great Zimbabwe. You told me your genealogy, and all your ancestry. It is me you told all your wisdom. It is me you gave the Jacob blessing, you always told me, I have blessed you as your father, only you have my blessing. Oh Papa, they will not take away your fathers blessing. I cling onto it Daddy, I want you to know I am hanging on. I am the one with your gifts isn’t it? You said it, none of your children can draw, or write, or be as mad as me. I am like you isn’t it Daddy? If there was any justice, if they had allowed me to be part of your funeral planning, Daddy, I would say bury him at Great Zimbabwe, let him rest there, in his royal residence with his forefathers. You were so passionate of your heritage Daddy, but it is well Daddy, it is well Pa.
Oh Pa, you always said I have the spirt of the great ancestors of Zimbabwe, because everyone in the family called you mad but I understood you too, and you told me deep secrets. A prophet you were Daddy. You called me the granddaughter of the Queen of Sheba, Gadziguru, but no Papa I don’t want any spirit in me, because I already have your spirit, and you are the great ancestor now. It is you Daddy, so please watch over me, I am so alone today, you left a void in me no one can ever fill. When I was scared, you would sing for me, and make me smile, and say I can do it? Daddy will I ever be a best selling author? Daddy will I make it in life?
You were always reading books Papa. You loved to read so much Mum mocked you for it. She called it kupenga, madness. Then one day she laughed at me, because I was printing some stuff online to read, and she said, “Ah ya, you are mad like your father, he is always going to the cafe to print tones of papers of stupid things to read. What a mad man he is. You are like him.” And Mum laughed at me. And I was so hurt Daddy, and I came and told you, and you said, “Don’t be upset baby, its okay to read and research, that’s actually a good thing. That’s how you sharpen your mind, and become smart, and get knowledge.”
Oh Papa, I was just like you, I never stopped reading books. I never told you, but as a little girl I used to steal books from the school library, then I would put the books in my jumper, and I would come home and read them in secret. My favourite book was always Alice in Wonderland. And my favourite character was the mad hatter.
Talking of books Daddy, I have been reading Samantha Markle’s book. Samantha is Meghan Markle’s sister, and she is now a dear friend and sister to me, and she has not stopped messaging me about you Papa. Oh Daddy, you have so many people around the world who now see the CHIEF in you. They all think you were great. I know Mum used to say you will die a lonely man, and no one will love you. That is not true Daddy, I have messages from across the world. Oh Daddy you would be so proud of yourself, and you would give me that big smile, if only you saw what people are saying about you. You really were a King Daddy. The people’s King.
I remember when Mum told me, that you had gone mad, that you were now bathing mad people. I remember being so scared that you really had gone mad. But I read a report about you online, it was so beautiful what you were doing, reaching out to the mentally ill of Karoi. I’m so sorry Daddy, when I read the article, I never wrote to you. I should have said congratulations, for being free, and a true humanitarian, and being brave, to do what God called you to do, even without the support of your own wife.
“You said the mad people are not mad, they just see things differently to us.” Oh Papa, what a heart you had.
When Mum left you, you were so devastated Daddy. You loved her unconditionally, but she was always painting you as a demon, and never said even one thing positive about you. She taught us to hate you, everyday, in the house, as we ate Sadza, were were told by our own mother daily what an evil man you were.
Oh Papa, right now you would say, “It’s okay Jean mwanangu, don’t say much baby. Don’t write much, be still ok.” You would read me the word of God. Oh Daddy you were way more forgiving and righteous than me. But sometimes I wouldn’t listen because I would be so upset, so I would write anyway. Then you would read my essay, and write to me again and say, “Well done my daughter. It’s okay to pour your heart out. I can see you have done that.”
I know right now you would say stop writing, just stop love, then you would read and love it so much, and say well done you are a global writer my daughter. Well done for exposing your evil mother. Then the next day you would say, forgive her. You were so double sided Papa, so contrary, but it was so funny. So sometimes I didn’t listen to your advice Daddy, because I knew eventually you always took my side, whatever I said, and understood whatever I did, the reasons behind my emotions. And you would say you take inspiration from me, because I am the “torch bearer” as you said.
Oh Daddy, I enjoyed it all, the way you told me to stop, then urge me on, then congratulate me, it was such a crazy cycle we had, but we had a good laugh. Even Nino would say, “What is your father telling you today, is he on the forgiveness mode.” It was your heart that was fascinating, you had such a good heart. It was so pure and innocent, and in the right place. Part of you wanted me to write about your ex-wife Miriam, so you get vindicated.
I can not explain how I will miss you Daddy.
After Mum left you, and you were so miserable for a long time, you finally asked me, “My daughter, will you allow me to take a new wife? I am so lonely I can’t live like this?”
I remember that chat Papa, I said to you, “Dad, do whatever makes you happy, find love if you must, I am happy with Nino so who am I stop you from being happy.”
Oh you smiled at that. It was such a relief to you. Before I knew it, you told me you had a beautiful God fearing wife.
I was happy for you Daddy. I was happy because she made you so happy. You stopped being miserable. And started singing again. You started sending me your videos always playing your guitar. Then I knew your new wife was so loving, and good for you.
When I told you I was happy for you, you started pushing it a bit, telling me she was now the mother I never had. And I would tell you to just stop it, I would say, “I am sure she’s so young, maybe my age or a bit older, so she is so not my mother Dad.”
Then you would say, “She supports you a lot Jean, she follows your blog kani, come to Zimbabwe and she will cook for you with all your children. She is your mother.” Oh Daddy, I wish I had come.
I am so sorry Daddy, I was a snob to your beautiful wife, I should have reached out to her. Today I thank her Daddy, that she made you so happy in your last years. When she gave you a daughter, you were so over the moon. The day Ruvheneko was born, you told me. And I was so jealous. I felt so replaced because of how happy you were. But you would say, “That’s your kid sister Jean. The sister you never had. She looks just like you.” And I would say, “Daddy stop.”
I am so sorry dear Papa, I never reached out to your beloved wife and daughter. The joy of your last years. Secretly, I used to take screenshots of Ruvheneko each time you posted her on your status. Because she was so pretty, and looked so much like me. I was kinda happy she was my sister, but I just never admitted it to you Pa.
Oh my Fathers wife, there are already so many lies in the media as to who my father’s wife was, but if you are reading this as Daddy said you did, please reach out to me, you can email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. If his sons have kicked you out of his mansion, which I have a strong feeling they have, as they will now take over his empire and farms, and little Ruvheneko is now an orphan double grieved, please take heart, your daughter is my baby sister. Because of my love for my father, I love Rue too, as Daddy called her to me. One day I said to Daddy, show me your wife, and he sent me a video of the two of you dancing, you made my old man so happy, and for that I am eternally grateful. He died a happy man and I owe it to him to love and care of the daughter of his old age, the baby sister I never had.
Again Pa, this picture below was just a few weeks ago on your status, I took a screenshot and couldn’t stop looking at your little girl. I was so happy for you Daddy, because Mum didn’t allow you to be this way with me, because she accused you of being sexually attracted to me, I was happy that you had a wife who allowed you to love your girl child the way you wanted to love me.
This morning, Samantha Markle, my new sister from another mother, wrote to me like she knew you Daddy, and she said “Daddy will not cross over until you are smiling Jean.” Samantha has taught me to love Rue, because she loved Meghan and looked after her like her full blood sister.
I see her here one day, playing with her “cousins” if we can call them that. Papa, your daughter belongs with her family, and my children are her family.
I am smiling now Daddy, I started this letter weeping, in a race against time, I wanted the birds of the air to take this letter to you before you are laid to rest today, I don’t know anything about your funeral, but its okay Daddy, I am not angry now. They didn’t acknowledge your wife or your little girl in the media today, and lied, but its okay Daddy, I am here to acknowledge your loves. They are the ones who loved you the most in your last years.
Oh Daddy, I know you will not rest in peace, until little Rue is okay, please smile Daddy, please, because today your little Princess Rue is now the only blood relation I have in Zimbabwe, it used to be you only Pa, but now it’s Ruvheneko. Was that not your dying wish Papa.
And oh Daddy, you always said to me, put this song on your blog, or write this for me my daughter, oh Papa, sorry its a little late, but look, I have so many of your best pictures, and even little Rue is now on my blog, and I have written 3000 words for you. Please go well Daddy, and rest today, and accept my humble tribute…
And smile please Daddy, that big big smile you used to have when playing your music. And cross over and watch over me…
We had a covenant Daddy, and that blood covenant can never be broken. Your begotten baby girl…
Fadzai, the name you gave me at birth.