I am a proud and supportive father and have always sought to provide the best for my children.
I am a community activist who focused on activities to enhance minds of young people. I meet many persons, now grown, who tell me that I positively impacted on their lives and showered me with praises. I worked in jobs of different kinds that afforded me the opportunity to travel near and far.
On one such trip overseas my employer provided me with a large residence. I was to hire domestic staff and set myself up. Through a casual friend, who was visiting at the time, I met a woman whom I hired to do my cleaning. She and her children later became like family.
This woman had young, very attractive daughters. I never got intimate with any of them as they were like family, and my trust for them grew to the extent that they had free access to the house in my absence. Their friends became mine.
When I visited their home in a “depressed community” one Sunday, children were playing cowboy and Indians and a youngster, not yet two years old, jumped off a roof and landed in my arms.
Scared by the face of a stranger, he ran away like nothing really happened. I proceeded to visit my new family. While there, I was introduced to a neighbour who caught my amorous interest. My “family” told me I would be playing with fire, but she became the staple of my sexual desire for more than three months. I discovered her to be the mother of the child who had jumped into my arms. She lived in the same wooden range as my “family” with an extended family of 12 in a compartment that could barely accommodate four.
When I left that country I had her contact information like everybody else that I met there, but she did not have mine. There were incidents that warned me of what I was about to get into. I must have ignored them.
Two months after I returned, I contacted her via a card and followed it up with a phone call. Reaching her by phone meant calling the home her mother worked at and leaving a message to say when I would call again.
Happy to hear me, she told me she was pregnant. I assumed she was carrying my child and immediately started to behave as such. I helped her to get a passport and made plans for her to come to Barbados to at least have the baby.
There were several delays in her arrival here, but she actually came at a point close to her expected delivery. At the airport I was shocked to meet a woman who was not expecting a baby anytime soon. She was accompanied by the same young man now almost three. He recognized me right away, even before she did, and ran to me and jumped into the arms that once saved him from death or injury.
She gave me two stories. I would have believed either if she had stuck to it. The first was that she had a miscarriage and did not want to tell me, and the other was that she was unsure of my paternity and aborted the child.
Three weeks after we reunited she had a routine medical check-up and was diagnosed as six weeks pregnant but I did not raise an issue. I had an older daughter who lost her mother at two years old and by then was at university overseas. Since her mother, my involvement with women was not super emotional as the woman I lost was very special. I loved her.
However, this new woman offered me a fulfilling diet of sex and I was grateful. In return I showed her some paternal love, so we looked like a happy family from the outside.
When dressed and going out she looked like someone or something I could show off, so I was happy with that. I did not love her but was satisfied with her. With a regular diet of sex, I really did not care for much more. So we were a family of an expectant mother and a happy father and a son.
Before the newborn came along, I came home unexpected one day. The youngster was in the yard crying and stopped when he saw me and ran to me. I entered my home expecting that she probably fell ill and was shocked to find her seated on the sofa partially dressed in the company of a man with his pants lowered and an erect penis.
His exit was through a window that I had to replace the next day. She was surprised that I took the matter as lightly as I did.
When the baby came along I re-registered the boy’s birth to carry my name and married the woman to give legitimacy to the child, who was a girl. I should now be happy, but hearing from men and women who shared her bed was getting to me, and I just disappeared.
I was out of the island for 15 years in the first instance before returning. No one gave me any information on what became of them, not my siblings or close friends or anyone else. I did learn that the woman got more children. I found the boy on an Internet social network. He has a son. He professed to give that son the fatherly love that he never had.
I confessed that he did not have motherly love, and asked if it was possible that he could give something he never had.
