Creator, you giveth. Creator, you taketh. Asante for both. Thank you facebook for keeping images preserved so well in order for me to use them here, and Google for blogger and everything else and everyone who is making it possible to say happy 27th earth years to late Jessy. Uncle George, thank you for all the photographs you took. It is like you knew something we did not know! And thank you twitter for the handle..

Jessy🎵♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡🎵
@KwaMathore
Link 

Yesterday on CBC Radio One, I was reminded that today is when Princess Diana died, 20 years ago.  RIP.  I came here to wish my late daughter a happy birthday and must acknowledge my hero the Princess and her two sons William and Harry of whom I am extremely proud.  I remember when I used to pray daily service for them.  Why did I stop?  Start again I will.

I knew there was a day my daughter shared with the Princess and it had never registered until today.  RIP Princess Diana, I admire what a lady you are and how yourself you are...regardless of anything and everything.

August 31 now means that on my child's birthday a Princess was tragically taken away from her sons. The child would die on July 3, (close to July 1st, Princess Di's birthday) and on what would have been the child's 7th birthday, a young Princess would die at 36 years old.  Who can make sense of this??

 Or this??  Wee Jessy,

dad, your grandfather used to tell me how you would wake him up to tie your uniform belts up.  We loved you and you loved us more.

My dearest of dearest daughter Jessy,  you loved me unconditionally. Thank you.

A happy birthday to you as dead as you are.

 
I was working as an office clerk with the Kenya National Examination Council in 1988. This was my third job after leaving advanced school.  I had worked as a merchandise girl in Uchumi Supermarkets, with a marketing company that your Uncle Martin had found for me.  After the contract was over, I became an untrained teacher for 10 months in Nyamweru Secondary School.  After I was harassed sexually, your grandmother, my mum, got me a job at the exam council in the capital city of Kenya, Nairobi.  Part of my job near the beginning of marking exams was the job of photocopying dummies for the examiners.  The photocopying happened at Xerox where I met your father, Matthew who worked as a typewriter and photocopier technician.  I met him in October 1989 and one day in December 7, 1989, we were having fun, your father and I.  I remember drinking vodka.  I was just starting out in life, forgot to do my biological rhythm check, and that night, we conceived you my love.  My periods did not show up in January 1990.  I had seen a sign on the roadside about pregnancy crisis.  I was tested for pregnancy and darling, I was pregnant. 

I had succeeded in getting a scholarship through the National Council of Churches of Kenya and was starting at school at a Catholic Kianda Secretarial College.  I was so confused and never told anyone I was pregnant.

Your father I told at five months and it was only after the doctor refused to abort you as you were a big baby did I tell my parents, your grandparents, at over six months pregnant. One of the teachers at Kianda College noticed that I was pregnant.  When asked, I said yes I was pregnant and I got kicked out.  I told one girl in a separate place, the hostels, The Salvation Army hostels and she snitched on me and I was expelled from there too.  I had no choice but to return home feeling like a failure and having the knowledge that I hardly knew your father.  He said I cried a lot...which I did...and still do.

I started going for prenatal clinics with three months to your birth.  One day, they told me if the water broke of if I spotted some blood, I should go to the hospital.  On a Wednesday morning, I knew I had to go to hospital.  The only person at home was my sister Wanjiru uyu and she escorted me and the baby clothes to the bus stop. 

   

I was in labour Wednesday, Wednesday night, Thursday, Thursday night and Friday around 12:30 PM, you were born through me being hit in the belly by the nurse which I hear is one way of giving birth.  Baby girl,

I got torn in different ways and was so proud to hold you in my arms.  As I was returning to my ward with you in my arms, my grandmother Monica,

your great grandmother appeared out of nowhere.  She had travelled far saying that she felt something (kiundu) was up in our household.  When she asked me your name, I told her Vivian Nyambura.  I told the nurses as well. Your father was not about to marry me and therefore I was not naming you after his mother as kind as she was to me. Tough times. When your father came to see you, he changed the name on the certificate to Jacinta Zuere Barros, which is the name you left hospital with.  At home, I was asked why I named you Jacinta when I was not married to your dad.  I was 22 years old and I decided to name you Jacinta after your paternal grandmother and Nyambura after your maternal grandmother. I was trying to keep the balance, you know? At school, you were Jacinta Nyambura and everybody called you Jessy which we spelled Jessy.  At two months old, the conditions at home grew hostile and I took you to your paternal grandparents.  A friend, your Auntie Cathy Waiganjo  from the Kenya National Exam Council took you and I to live with her.  She came searching for us.  You turned a year old and Auntie Cathy threw you a party and a half.  We are seen here cutting your first birthday cake. 

Cathy died in a road accident.  Cathy used to provide for shelter, food and babysitters.  In Kenya, a country that still does not have social services, I became a sex trade worker to feed us.  I went through college as a sex trade worker and a lot of support by National Council of Churches of Kenya Link

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

and when you were three, I was diagnosed with AIDS. I told you before anyone else and you seemed to handle it well.  It was our secret. Sorry for giving you that burden.  The only other person who knew was my doctor Dr Chris Mureithi.  He is a chest specialist who knew my pneumonia at one time was AIDS related. He treated the Pneumocystis pneumonia (PCP) and told me to eat well and fun.  It was the early 90's no treatment for HIV!  I did not have you tested because my thinking was, there was nothing they could do for me, what would they do for you if they had the knowledge of your status?  My 24 year old mind told me they would do nothing.

You started pre-school in 1993 before you were three years old.  Your uncle Martin and I registered you in school.  It was a Catholic school in Parklands.  Uncle Karuri Wa Mwihaki, unakumbuka?

 You brought us much joy over the years, Jessy.  After three years of pre-school, my mother, your grandmother registered you in Tigoni Day School.

You were in kindergarten when I left and I recall when I picked you up from school for what would be the last time, your teacher asked you to demonstrate something on the board. You looked nervous and you did what you were asked.  I lifted you up proudly.  You attended my farewell party, we went to the airport and I will never forget how hard you cried.  Makes me cry to date.  Then, I never saw you again!!!!!!!!!

Very close to your demise, you sent two notes via your auntie, my sister Wanjiru Uyu. One in May 7, 1997 and another in June 9, 1997.  You died July 3, 1997!

 

Here you are with Uncle Nick, did I buy what you needed for sports or did somebody else?  I used to feel so helpless.  Never got around to buying you a bicycle...in your honour, we provided one to a needy family in Kenya.  You ROCK!

You did need another pair of school shoes which I know I never bought and this particular photo through the smile shows your pain.  I am so sorry for any hurt you went through because you did not have a mother or a father and it is not that they were dead.  OMG.  No handkerchief?  Your uniform looks too large on you or you have certainly lost weight since we lost touch.  My biggest worry kid - did anyone do anything inappropriate to you?  Like touch your flower or engage you sexually?  Anyone in the Kwa Mathore neighbourhood?  I ask because I was raped in that same neighbourhood and I feel kiundu.

I tried my best with whatever means I had to keep you satisfied without being a prostitute abroad and it was very difficult.  I remember our conversation, actually the only conversation we had over the phone and you said I told you I would come back in August 1996, and I didn't and then I said I would come back in December 1996, and I didn't.  I told you August because that is when my visa was expiring.  I was given four more months at the airport, to December.  In December, that is when I applied for an extension, was approved and continued to pursue medication, hoping to bring you here one way or another.  Forgive me as even I did not know what was going to happen from day to day.  That day we talked I had called you at school.  You were and have always been on my mind.  There was not a good time to tell you that I came here to die away from you and other loved ones.  I had seen people through medical school dying of AIDS complications and it was horrific.

Back in Kenya, you lived with your Auntie Wanjiru Uyu even though I had left you with my parents, your grandparents. I think Auntie saw you washing your own school uniform (which reminds me that Uncle George used to wash your uniform daily in Parklands, took you to the park...) and Auntie Wanjiru was like, am taking her with me single or not.  She sent you home from her place as a single girl with Uncle KKK so that you could have someone to watch over you as you had chicken pox.  Grandmother took you to a doctor and then she decided to get a 2nd opinion.  You were injected with penicillin because the Rukuma dispensary said you had more than just chicken pox. Because you had chicken pox rash, the penicillin rash went unnoticed.  The next day you got the fatal shot, Uncle Newton was entertaining you with shows of Mr. Bean.  You reacted to penicillin and was taken home dead, in a baby sitters back, in a bus.  I guess everybody was doing the best they could with what they had.  Dr Mutuma the pathologist who did your post mortem said you were suffering from bronc-pnemonia.  He was a student in my department of Pathology when I left.  Thanks for helping me get a clear answer Daktari.  Pole.

When you died, I died to.  I am only now waking up again.  You are the best child that happened to me. You made many people VERY happy.  

Happy 27th earth years kid.  Granted, I was 27 years old when I arrived in British Columbia, Canada.  Within a week of being at the International AIDS Conference, Vancouver, 1996 organized by International AIDS Society, (LINK)  new medication was announced here in BC.  I started pursuing the HIV medication from that moment.  Medication was made available to me in 1998.  Thank you Canada! At this time you had died and any dreams I had of you coming here and being adopted by someone while I died, disappeared just like that.  Alas, I am still alive, thank you Creator.

You made me laugh many times and one such time is when you came running to me, out of breath and said, “Mami, mami, ndona nguku cigikana.” Hehehehe... I laugh even today.  And I always remember when you were looking at this photo 

where I was about 7-8 months pregnant with you and you asked me if you made me angry and how did you come out.  I did not have guts to tell you that you came out of my vagina (Gikuyu, what is another word for the K word?) which the medics widened with a knife slit to get your head, shoulder and feet out. [Slit at the Perineum?]  Therefore I told you, you came out of the mouth. It was *bullshit* You were three I was twenty four? Forgive me for not being straightforward with you.  An honest question deserves an honest answer.  In the photo, the white shirt is a baggy to cover the pregnancy.  I only unbuttoned the shirt for the photo.  I was upset and not at you sweetheart.

RIP Jacinta Nyambura Zuere Barros Vivian, Muthoni KB.

 That a gal!

We are bound to meet again sometime.

My mum happily serving you the purple cake you had asked for. This was before I came to Canada to read in Chapers Bookstore, 1999/2000 that your name Jacinta means purple in Spanish and Portuguese.  I would look at these photos of purple and weep as I connected the dots of your short yet exciting life.

Your grandmother, used to call you Pilot. For this blog, you are my First Officer, Zuere II ..  Tich Maber.  Mum stood at the top of the driveway looking down as the babysitter came carrying you on her back.  She was wondering why you went walking and came back carried.  You were put on the sofa and mum called you and called and realized you were dead.  Poor mum!  For all the grudge I held against my mum, it had to start disappearing.  Thanks for that and you did not have to die for that.

I am married to a Scorpio since May 21, 2005, we lived together for two years prior.  I think everyone ought to live together before marriage. It is said we are a match made in Heaven.
Link 

We had a miscarriage (Ruby) in November 2005, and always celebrate father’s day and mother’s day because you are our daughter. 

Happy Birthday.

 

Somehow, there are no records of your 2nd or 3rd birthday which I assume is due to my AIDS diagnosis and I was abroad for your sixth.  Please forgive me for that and for if I gave you the HIV/AIDS virus.

We gave each other:
Human
Internal 
Vision 

And 

Acquired
Internally
Developed
Spirit. 

Thank you everyone, family 

Collage done in 2003 by Ryan Bushby.

or not family, who took care of Jessy in my absence and in my presence.  The child was my own doing.  Inexperience, Vodka (alcohol), no birth control and unprotected sex did it.  I appreciate every bit of assistance in a country Kenya, with no social services...  Thank you for burying her for me and God bless you for doing everything in your means.  Thank you Kenya for giving Jessy a resting place.

Minneh's story

Happy birthday and many more.

Love you Jessy, always 

Mum <3

Whitney Houston - I Will Always Love You

By the way, Mzee Jomo Kenyatta looked like this then.

Msalimie tafadhali and tell him the Spirit of Harambee  lives on!  

Wee Jessy, bye .................................Au Revoir.