Happy Birthday My 007

Today, 10th June, is my girls birthday. When she was born we gave her both my mum’s names (Im a mamas boy kabisa). I still remember pacing up and down the hospital corridor usiku at around 8pm outside the theatre, waiting anxiously for my official admission into the fathers club.
I was alone, and I preferred it that way. My favourite cousin-in law (who shares a name with my daughter) called me at 8.15pm for the usual update. How is mum, when did she go in, how are you feeling etc
I was still pacing up and down and as we spoke, I glanced at the theatre door and saw through the glass windows that some people were approaching. In a few moments the door flung open and there was this nurse in those pyjama type hospital work clothes and brilliant white crocs (shoes). She was pushing a trolley and inside it was this pink, whitish, tiny human being with a peg on her umbilical cord area and a full afro on her head. Woi here comes additional wash and set bills, I thought . I immediately knew she was mine as I recognised the nurse. She had been attending to mummy shark pre delivery. But I also confirmed what I was told earlier that when you see the baby you will know, so I knew.
I don’t remember hanging up on my cousin but up to this day she tells me I started shouting, Im a dad! Im a dad! Then I hung up on her. So my first baby shark was put under some warmer in a room and I was left with her as the nurse said, Huyu ni wako, Ni kamschana. Miss G had landed. To me the phrase – beautiful ones are not yet born- was now past tense.

I cannot describe how I felt as I called her name and she turned and looked at me. I was a Dad just like that. I could not believe it. I was staring at the fruit of my loins. Good job baba, I prided myself. I titled her the heir to my estate. And today is exactly 7 years later.
Strangely, today I woke up with a heavy heart because lately I’ve been worrying a lot about whether I can secure my family’s future especially now as I transition into the second half. The uncertain future hung heavily over me and as I walked out the gate this morning to run a few errands, She followed me and asked a simple question that hit me like lorry ya mjengo. Daddy, you’re not wishing me happy birthday?

I was so ashamed of myself. How can you forget your princess birthday worrying about money and your cross roads? I quickly picked her up, tossed her in the air (all her 22 kilos) and wished her happy birthday with a humongous hugging kiss (is that proper English). We spent the afternoon with her friends swimming and eating cake and all the junk the doctor does not allow.

As Miss G and her friends swam and jumped off the diving board repeatedly, I was seated at the table by the pool sipping my dawa cocktail watching them all. And the smile and joy she had as she shouted at me to watch her jump off the diving board was priceless. I thought, this is all that matters to her. Heck, its all that matters period. She’s celebrating her birthday with her family and friends.

This was a powerful reminder of a fundamental truth.
A lot is changing in my life almost everything. But some things will never change. And one of them is my brood. These are the big stones that will never leave the jar. We got home in the evening and I spoke a simple and heartfelt prayer over her life and reassured her that she’s all that matters today. And that’s because she does, always has and always will.
Daddy loves you very much my Miss G.