mom couldn’t afford another car,
and she couldn’t get the car fixed
somewhere else. You’re married to
a mechanic and you’re going to get
your car fixed by another
mechanic? That’s worse than
cheating. So Abel became our only
transport, and he would refuse to
take us places. Ever defiant, my
mother would take minibuses to get
to church.
Losing the car also meant
losing access to my dad. We had to
ask Abel for rides into town, and he
didn’t like what they were for. It
was an insult to his manhood.
“We need to go to Yeoville.”