My Story as an adult child of divorced parents

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I was born in a somewhat “polygamous” family. My parents separated when I was about 6 years or so. During the separation and back-and-forth attempts for reconciliation my father died. I was then raised by a single mother and extended family relations from the age of 8 years old.

At the early stages of my parents’ separation, we were living with my dad and my older step-siblings. One day my mother’s friend came and stole us away from a nearby kindergarten that had just opened. You can watch the full video in my YouTube channel here.

As a child I did not understand why my parents couldn’t just get back together, I sincerely didn’t know how to process everything. At one point we ended up in Mbale High Court Uganda East Africa over custody issues.

“I remember the judge asking me who I wanted to live with. It was such a disturbing question. No child should have to bear the burden and confusion of such a question. I wondered why I had to choose between my parents, I loved them both”.

I had stayed away from my dad for a long time and I missed my dad. So, I chose my dad because I missed him, and our home was more comfortable, peaceful, and life was great there. We were by then living at my grandparents’ place, life was hard there. The Judge that day ruled that my mother would have custody of the children and when we become adults , we shall decide for ourselves.

I remember that day, was One of the most heartbreaking memories I have of my Father. After the ruling, before my father walked out of the courtroom. I was smiling & wanted to run to him. But there was no smile on his face. Then all I could see was his back as he walked out of court. I have never forgotten that moment.

After several months, I had disturbed my mother with questions and barging her I wanted to see my father. One bright afternoon, she bathed my siblings and I, dressed us up in our best clothes and we walked to our home which was just a few kilometers from my grandparents house.

We reached our family compound, that day my dad was drinking ajono at the compound near the fence. I saw him, he looked frail and weak . He had had been sick for a while. I have always been such a free spirited person. I was all smiles I wanted to run to my dad but before I could my mother held my hand to stop me . I was confused but later understood. My dad had by now stood had up from where he was seated and was reaching out for a stick . Which he picked up and was moving towards us. My mother pulled my hands and we all sprung running into the bushes away from my father. will never know why he picked up that stick and what it was meant for.

But as a child, I was so heart broken I couldn’t believe what I had just witnessed. Let me take you back to who my Father was before the separation. My father was an amazing dad, he bathed my siblings and I. He took us out on weekends to eat and have fun in the great hotels in Tororo back in the 90s. Everyday from work he brought us ribena the favorite drink back in the day. For me as his daughter named after his mother , he treated me like a queen, he always called me mother, at meal time he always added me a piece of meat from his plate. He always carried me on his laps. We took nature walks together. He taught me how to be confident and so much more . He was my hero , my security and safety. It was hard to contrast what I had experienced all my life with what had had just a few months after my parents separation.

Shortly my father died just two months before my 8^th birthday and the events in the funeral I remember all like it happened yesterday.

There were heated arguments and traumatizing events that elders poorly handled, in short about two years of my childhood was robbed for 15 years.

When I was about 23 years old, I was tired of life. I had suffered depression, rejection, manipulation, & ended up with the wrong crowds looking for a place to belong, searching for what I didn’t know. But I was just looking for a place to call home, a family, a place I felt accepted but there was non.

I was sick, suffering from illnesses that could not be diagnosed. At night when I slept I had chest pains that attacked me in sleep. I felt the pain start slowly from one side of my chest then slowly spread throughout my entire chest. As it spread, I slowly lost ability to breath, every breath was painful and difficult that I could not even call out to the person next to me. I would just pray and hope it was not the day I died.

And slowly, the pain would fade just as it came. This pain I lived with it for so long that I learned how to cop with it. I started training myself on how to hold my breath for so long and incorporating slow breaths to help me when I got attacked by the chest pain.

So, even in sleep, my brain learnt to detect when the pain was coming and I started breathing or holding my breath unconsciously. I also had back pain and pain that paralyzed my legs. Grief experiences left me lonely, and empty with an identity crisis that wounded me and those around me. My healing journey was a combination of several things but the pivotal moment was when I truly desired better & more for my life at about when I was 23 years old.