I was angry and confused about his sudden outburst and that he chose me to use as a punching bag. I woke up, made my bed, had breakfast and spent the rest of the day lounging in front of the television. Mduh didn’t come home once during the day, which was okay with me.

To me, Mduh was a burden; he ate, slept, took a dump and used me as his maid to clean up after him. It was exactly five o’clock, mom had just arrived from work, and she wanted to take a nap just to ease her aching body before supper. She was poised to stand up when Mduh barged in smiling; he was holding a baby in his hands.

“Is this how you apologise, by bringing a baby home,” I asked.

The baby boy he was holding was a cute little bunch with spongy cheeks. After he supposedly and cowardly slapped me, now he brings a baby home? What was wrong with him? He then walked straight to where our mother was seated and said, “Mom, most people often say this child looks like me, does he?”

Our mother was too exhausted at that moment to even understand what he said but I did. Mom rose with sleepy eyes and headed for her bedroom, leaving Mduh standing with the baby. Clearly she was not in the mood for his jokes but Mduh was still standing cooing excitedly at the baby.

In the midst of confusion, I asked myself, what exactly was happening because mom said nothing yet; he made an obvious point that she said something to clear himself from trouble. Yesterday, he acted weird and today he brought a bay home and was happy. I asked him if the baby was his while I took a closer look at him. Mduh gave me a frantic stare.

“No way! It’s not mine,” he said.

“Are you sure it’s not yours? Remember it’s an insult to the ancestors to deny what they give? You say it’s not yours, do you have any solid evidence to back up your claim?” I pressed on. I assumed I handed him a hand grenade, he just went viral and exploded for no reason.

“Listen here and listen carefully! This is not my child, if you don’t get that than fuck off!” he yelled.

I really saw no reason for him to treat me the way he did. All I wanted was to know if we had extended our family bloodline or not. Everything he did was adding up, from half-asleep entertaining confession, his crazy antics, his mood swings and then bringing a strange baby home; it was just too much for me. Mduh then set the baby on the floor before leading him out the door, probably back to his mother.

He was a cute little toddler. That evening at dinner, mom said that she had a dream where an elderly man handed her a baby. I kept my head down and didn’t volunteer to comment. We waited for Mduh and dad to return but mom continued talking and noticed that I was quiet. Mom asked me what I was keeping from her so I told her about Mduh and the baby that he brought home that afternoon.

Mom then stood up and then sat down again. She then asked me if I knew how old the baby was. I was becoming concerned and I hated being the centre of serious attention or scrutiny where my parents were concerned. I hesitated at first, then I guessed the baby’s age and told her about the conversation Mduh had with me the night before. I also told my mother that I believed Vicky to be the mother of the child. That’s when Mduh came into the kitchen, his eyes red from the weed. I said nothing about the state he was in. After the wakeup call he gave me that morning, I didn’t want to risk being punched on the side of my head again.

Mom asked him if he was sick but he quickly deflected her question by smiling a broad smile. Mom instructed him to sit down and I asked him how old he thought the baby was or who his mother was. Mduh then looked at me as if I was a traitor. Mom then told him that I had told her he has a son, mom was calm however. She continued telling him that it was a relief, him being a father and that this will teach him to be responsible. Mom told him that he was old enough to get a job and that he should start working to support his child and stop being a burden to her and dad.

At first I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; I wanted to voice my opinion too but kept quiet like a dutiful child. Finally Mduh slowly stood up and placed both his hands on the table before politely saying, “Like I said to this prick! Mom that child is not mine,” then got up and left out the kitchen door.

Next time I saw Mduh was the next morning. If looks could kill, the one he gave me would have me six foot under by now. From that morning onward Mduh never spoke to me again, but mom told me to keep an eye on him and inform her of everything he did. I told her about his weed smoking and abusing me and she reprimanded him for it.

A few months later we found out that the baby Mduh had brought home shared the same surname as us. Mom didn’t look one bit shocked, all she said was, “Yeah! A typical situation of your father’s brother and it seems like it runs on his blood.”

***

Tell us what you think: Do you know of people who have denied their children? Did you believe them?