She cannot get over her father’s betrayal
Feb 02, 2009
Martha Serumaga lost her mother to cancer. But as <b>Irene Nabusoba</b> writes, memories of her mother are beautiful, while thinking of her father who left them only cause her pain.
Martha Serumaga lost her mother to cancer. But as Irene Nabusoba writes, memories of her mother are beautiful, while thinking of her father who left them only cause her pain.
IMAGINE the memories of a departed mother bringing joy but the thought of a dad who is still alive causing pain.
This is how Martha Serumaga, who works for the Inspector General of Government’s office feels. “I fail to get words to describe the hero in my mother. She has passed on but I know no other hero,†she says.
“What about dad,†I ask.
She keeps quiet. My smile fades as she swallows a lump in her throat, regretting why I asked.
“Thinking about dad hurts,†Serumaga says, fighting back tears.
Her dad left the family over 10 years ago, claiming he was going for kyeyo. “I was in boarding school. Mum came and told me that dad had gone abroad to work. I felt bad. How could he not even come to say goodbye? I should have known I would become familiar with the pain because we have not seen him since,†she recounts.
“We hardly talk about him even now that mum is gone although we know he is alive. He could not even come for mum’s burial,†she breaks off again.
I try to change the topic. She delves into Ruth Serumaga’s life adoringly. “Imagine a single mother of five. Mummy still ‘drove’ the family even when dad was aroundâ€. They always had food on the table, a loving mother and an available dad to keep them in check. However, when she was 16, their dad left. He used to communicate frequently but with time, he stopped and so did his input to the family’s wellbeing. “Mum had to take it on solely,†she says. “Times got so hard but I can count the number of times my dad’s family helped emotionally or financially.â€
“Mummy had five of us — myself, Philip, Paul, Peter and Yunia. She was a loving, hard working woman and she always wanted us to grow up as God-fearing children. She would tell me: ‘You do not have to be angry with your dad.’ Even when she died she told me: ‘If you ever see your father, tell him I have forgiven him.’ I pray about it every day, that I can find a place in my bitter heart to forgive my dad. Sometimes I think I have forgiven him then I feel fresh pain,†she says.
Maybe Ruth had reason to fear for the impact the absence of a father figure would have on her daughters. “She always told me that God had a different plan for me and I want to believe her. I know Mum lived by the grace of God. In the morning she would pray in her bed. She would pray for everyone, including strangers and dad. Afterwards, she would bake cakes before leaving for her work,†Martha recalls. She muses at the fact that she despised baking as a young girl and would feign stomach aches.
When she talks about the challenges, her face is as hard as a stone.“They were so many but I dreaded the times we shifted most. When mum was financially on the wall and could not afford rent, we had to find a cheaper alternative. That is why when she was diagnosed with cancer, it was the worst blow,†she says. Serumaga died on August 15, 2006 aged 46.
“We are a child-headed family. I have learnt to be strong. I know that whatever happens, you have to pick up the pieces and move on. The cakes my mum taught us to bake have helped to keep my siblings in school, she says.
They wake up early, bake and sell them to pay rent, fees and buy food. “While some clients left with the demise of our mom, we have also managed to make our own. One day, we shall open up a cake shop to house Rumi Confectionery and make her proud.We have come a long way and we shall manage,†she concludes.
IMAGINE the memories of a departed mother bringing joy but the thought of a dad who is still alive causing pain.
This is how Martha Serumaga, who works for the Inspector General of Government’s office feels. “I fail to get words to describe the hero in my mother. She has passed on but I know no other hero,†she says.
“What about dad,†I ask.
She keeps quiet. My smile fades as she swallows a lump in her throat, regretting why I asked.
“Thinking about dad hurts,†Serumaga says, fighting back tears.
Her dad left the family over 10 years ago, claiming he was going for kyeyo. “I was in boarding school. Mum came and told me that dad had gone abroad to work. I felt bad. How could he not even come to say goodbye? I should have known I would become familiar with the pain because we have not seen him since,†she recounts.
“We hardly talk about him even now that mum is gone although we know he is alive. He could not even come for mum’s burial,†she breaks off again.
I try to change the topic. She delves into Ruth Serumaga’s life adoringly. “Imagine a single mother of five. Mummy still ‘drove’ the family even when dad was aroundâ€. They always had food on the table, a loving mother and an available dad to keep them in check. However, when she was 16, their dad left. He used to communicate frequently but with time, he stopped and so did his input to the family’s wellbeing. “Mum had to take it on solely,†she says. “Times got so hard but I can count the number of times my dad’s family helped emotionally or financially.â€
“Mummy had five of us — myself, Philip, Paul, Peter and Yunia. She was a loving, hard working woman and she always wanted us to grow up as God-fearing children. She would tell me: ‘You do not have to be angry with your dad.’ Even when she died she told me: ‘If you ever see your father, tell him I have forgiven him.’ I pray about it every day, that I can find a place in my bitter heart to forgive my dad. Sometimes I think I have forgiven him then I feel fresh pain,†she says.
Maybe Ruth had reason to fear for the impact the absence of a father figure would have on her daughters. “She always told me that God had a different plan for me and I want to believe her. I know Mum lived by the grace of God. In the morning she would pray in her bed. She would pray for everyone, including strangers and dad. Afterwards, she would bake cakes before leaving for her work,†Martha recalls. She muses at the fact that she despised baking as a young girl and would feign stomach aches.
When she talks about the challenges, her face is as hard as a stone.“They were so many but I dreaded the times we shifted most. When mum was financially on the wall and could not afford rent, we had to find a cheaper alternative. That is why when she was diagnosed with cancer, it was the worst blow,†she says. Serumaga died on August 15, 2006 aged 46.
“We are a child-headed family. I have learnt to be strong. I know that whatever happens, you have to pick up the pieces and move on. The cakes my mum taught us to bake have helped to keep my siblings in school, she says.
They wake up early, bake and sell them to pay rent, fees and buy food. “While some clients left with the demise of our mom, we have also managed to make our own. One day, we shall open up a cake shop to house Rumi Confectionery and make her proud.We have come a long way and we shall manage,†she concludes.