Brother Became The Man My Heart Refused To Lose

I grew up knowing that my mom was all I had. No dad, no relatives, no grandparents nothing. According to her, my dad refused to acknowledge his responsibility, so she raised me on her own. When I was around fifteen, my mom started bringing home a man.

She asked me to call him ‘Daddy.’ “Is he my dad?” I asked innocently. She replied, “No, he isn’t, but he’s a man, so you can call him Daddy.” From that moment on, I did. He was kind to me, showering me with gifts and occasionally taking my mom and me out for fun.

One day, Daddy came home with a boy named Chege. He introduced him by saying, “This is your brother. He’s older than you, so he’s your senior brother.” I looked at Chege, and he looked back at me. We didn’t speak that day; we just sat quietly together watching TV.

Daddy continued to come and go as he pleased, sometimes bringing Chege along and sometimes not. A couple of years later, Mom and Daddy got married. I wasn’t there for the ceremony; I was at school. When I returned, Chege filled me in on everything I had missed, telling me how I had missed a wonderful occasion and what they had eaten and drunk.

I was happy for my mom. She had been alone for so long, and now she had someone to share her life with. From that point on, I felt like I had a family of my own.

We moved into Daddy’s two-bedroom house, where Chege and I shared a room. At night, we would talk about our day and share secrets we hadn’t told our parents. For the first time, life felt good. I had a brother and a companion, something I had always longed for.

However, as I started college, things began to deteriorate between Daddy and my mom. According to Chege, they fought most nights, and sometimes Daddy would leave and not come back. Mom would cry herself to sleep while Chege watched helplessly.

By my third year in college, they separated and eventually divorced. Mom found a new place to live, marking a new chapter in her life. When I came home for the semester, she said, “Let’s treat this as a bad dream. We’re awake now, and nothing matters. You don’t have a daddy or a senior brother. I’m all you have.”

Despite the turmoil between our parents, Chege and I stayed close. Initially, he was a responsible brother trying to make life easier for me. But as time went on, the reason for our sibling bond became unclear. I didn’t know how to refer to him anymore, and he was just as confused.

“What are we now that Daddy and Mom are no longer together?” I kept asking myself. Chege didn’t dwell on our situation; he continued to give without asking for anything in return. He was always around, visiting me at college and taking me to lovely places. At one point, he introduced me to his friends as his girlfriend. He would laugh about it until one night when he made it clear: “I don’t know what we are, but I know I don’t want to lose you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

I wasn’t surprised; I had seen it coming. My only response was, “What will Daddy say, and what should I tell my mom?” He replied, “Leave Daddy to me. If you need help with your mom, just let me know.”

That night, we kissed. It felt both awkward and exhilarating. I had previously been hurt by a boyfriend who left me for my best friend, which made me anxious, but somehow, I felt safe with Chege.

We dated for a year and a half without our parents knowing or suspecting anything. Chege lived in his own apartment, making it easier for us to meet away from prying eyes. But despite our strong feelings, the reality was daunting. How could two people who were once married become in-laws on opposite sides? Our future looked uncertain, but we held onto hope.

Chege was the first to tell his father. That night, his father nearly disowned him, calling our relationship an abomination and insisting it would never happen. I was scared and urged him to give up, but he remained optimistic, assuring me that his father would eventually come to terms with it: “He’s just in denial right now; soon he’ll accept the inevitable.”

My mom was somewhat forgiving but firm: “You once called him a brother and his father your father. You can’t call him a husband now, no matter what. Find yourself another man.” Before I could respond, she walked away, repeating, “Find a man you don’t call a brother.”

When I shared this with Chege, he simply said, “Just stay calm; they’ll come to their senses soon. They couldn’t maintain their love story and are jealous of ours.”

It’s been over a year now, and neither of our parents is willing to budge. At one point, I considered faking a pregnancy to see if that would soften my mom’s stance, but I was terrified of the consequences.

Men Who Fall From The Skies Usually Belong To Other Women

We know what we want and are willing to wait as long as it takes to get it. Chege remains hopeful, but I sometimes feel anxious. How long is long enough? What if they never accept us? Are we prepared to move forward without their approval?

These questions haunt me. The truth is simple: Chege and I are not siblings. We are not related by blood, so why do our parents insist that we are? Only time will tell. Until then, we will continue to love each other and wait.

—Adimu,  
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