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When my wife sent my daughter to stay with me, I was extremely happy. We bonded immediately after three years of my absence, although we had often kept in touch through video calls on WhatsApp and Botim while I was away.
After three days, one morning as we sat watching TV with her resting on me, she asked, “Daddy, should I tell you something?” I encouraged her to go ahead.
She hesitated and said, “But Daddy, promise me you won’t tell mummy.” I realised she might be about to reveal something sensitive. I reassured her, kissed her on the cheek, and promised I would not tell.
She insisted, “First swear upon the living God.” I did so, and then she hooked her little finger with mine to seal the promise. Curious, I asked why she was so afraid. She replied in Luganda, “Daddy, I don’t want to stop being mummy’s child because she told me if I tell you, I won’t be her child anymore.”
I comforted her, held her close, and gently encouraged her to speak freely.
Then she asked, “Daddy, do I have two daddies? Because mummy told me I have two— you and another uncle at home.”
I was taken aback. I asked her to explain. She said the man wore my clothes, shoes, and even used the perfumes I had brought home. She added that she did not like him because he would keep close to her mother, and whenever he came home, she was sent away to sleep at her grandmother’s house instead of staying with her mother.
She also mentioned that whenever she asked him to buy her chocolate, he would only bring biscuits, which she did not like. I reassured her, telling her I would always provide for her and that she had nothing to worry about. I gave her some chocolates I had received as a gift, and she was overjoyed.
As we continued talking, I asked whether the man stayed at the house every day. She said no, but that he had a car and often took her mother to work. She added that they even went to the gym together, and sometimes she would accompany them.
I stayed with my daughter for about two months before she returned to her mother, as my travel preparations to India for medical treatment were nearly complete. A few weeks later, I travelled to India. When I returned, during her school holidays, she was sent back to stay with me again.
By then, I had stabilised, and during our conversations, she asked me to forgive her mother. I asked her about the man she had mentioned earlier. She told me he was no longer around, explaining that they had quarrelled frequently, sometimes even to the point of near physical confrontation.
She recalled overhearing arguments late at night, even though her mother thought she was asleep. According to her, the disagreements were partly because the man was allegedly involved with another woman.
I listened quietly, choosing not to burden her further with my reactions. Instead, I reassured her that she was safe with me and that I would always be there for her.
Today, I remain focused on building a strong and supportive environment for my children. The bond we share continues to grow stronger despite the challenges we have faced.
