A secret DNA test gave me the shocking revelation of my life. That my daughters Joy and Vallery, were not actually, MINE.
I had been married 11 years; Joy was 6 years old while her younger sister Valerie just turned 4 years, a week before I decided to conduct a secret DNA test on the my two lovely girls.
My wife Rebecca had been so loving and faithful (or so I thought)
Our first 9 years in matrimony was very blissful. Marriage was kind to us and the years had brought us immeasurable grace in our young matrimony. Rebecca and I were truly in love. Our collective desire was to raise a beautiful God fearing family and go through into blessed years of parenthood.
The birth of my daughter Joy was such a fullfilling moment for me as a man. Her little eyes at birth gave me a reassured sense of parenthood and each evening I spoke to God and asked him to guide me to be the best dad to Joy and supportive husband to Rebecca.
Life was good.
When my second child Vallery was born, something strange begun to happening..
First, it all begun by receiving a friend request from Facebook from a unfamiliar profile. I innocently accepted the request and there’s wasn’t much of information on the profile. Save for the gender was female and a few cartoon images as profile picture. Maybe it was some fake Facebook profile. I didn’t notice, I didn’t care.
Barely a week after receiving the said friend request, I randomly checked through my Facebook messages and realized that the person had dropped me a DM.
Without properly introducing themselves, the Facebook friend went ahead to state that I should get a new wife and father my own children. That my two little daughters were products of a carefully executed extra marital affair between my wife and some other man that wasn’t mentioned. She further dared me to visit the nearest private clinic and conduct a secret DNA on my two girls.
My world temporarily stopped!
Who in God’s name was this! Why on planet earth were they questioning my paternity to my kids! Why in Jesus name was she insinuating that my loving and caring wife was a cheat?
I felt shaken for real. Terribly shaken.
With utter desperation, I rushed back to the profile to catch a clue of who this person was. With shaking fingers, I schemed through the entire Facebook timeline.
Boy! There was zero clue to who this person was!
No mutual friends, no relatable post, no education background. No nothing.
Who was this?
What was going on?
Why was ‘she’ saying my kids weren’t mine?
I knew better not to confront my wife Rebecca on such a sensitive matter; especially now that it was coming from a mysterious person online. I dismissed it as some other desperate attempt by a hater to distabilize my family. I made a mental decision to delete the message from my DMs, block the profile and move on with life.
If only I knew what awaited me..
Roughly nine days later, I received another Facebook DM. This time the sender was not on my list of Facebook friends, as such it was a message request. I gladly accepted to read the message.
The following three well detailed paragraphs from this strange Facebook user completely ruined my life.
The message accurately highlighted my background as a person, and even that of my life.
He/she gave correct dates of when and where I was born. The names of my parents and where they presently live. The person went ahead to give details about my wife Rebecca, her exact age, her career and all.
What was completely harrowing is the fact that after correctly highlighting our background, the sender begged me to urgently perform a DNA test on my two kids. Because he or she was damn sure that Joy and Vallery weren’t my biological kids. And that Rebbeca my wife had played me big time!
I shuddered!
Who were these people.
How come they had every detail about my family and I?
Why were they insisting that my kids weren’t biologically mine?
What exactly was going.
These questions made me sick, and completely scared.
These strange allegation surrounding my paternity and marriage shook me to the core.
The following day, I decided to do the unthinkable. I was going to secretly perform a quick DNA test for my two girls and put everything to rest.
At the outskirts of where we lived, there was only one private clinic offering such services.
I would have not dared to carry out the DNA tests under a public health institution, it wouldn’t have been a secret anymore. So I Preffered a local clinic within Athi River.
It’s not like I was giving in to the instructions of Facebook strangers to validate my paternity, I just wanted to be clear headed on this issue and put it to rest.
4th August 2021, 8:00AM
I drove into oasis doctors plaza and asked for a confidential appointment with the lead clinic officer.
Dr. Benard was an easy guy in his mid 30s. He was very proffesional and kept reassuring me that he would conduct the in utmost privacy and that in less than 3 hours, the results would be out.
Dr. Benard was the lead consultant at the oasis doctors plaza and despite not having met him before, he was a popular medic within the environs of Athiriver.
Many residents loved him because he was prompt, professional and a people’s person.
I presented the things he needed to conduct the tests; that was basically the spoons my two lovely girls had used last night for dinner, as well as the combs they had used to groom up this morning before heading to school. Dr. Benard had assured me that the two afformentioned items would perfectly help in sampling the DNA of myself and either one or both of the girls.
Dr. Benard reassured me that it was not in his place to judge why I was doing this, for he said he had dealt with doubtful dads before and that it was a normal thing in disfunctional marriages for such secret DNA tests to be undertaken.
Trust me, I was careful not to tell him that I was doing this because of some random Facebook messages claiming I was raising kids that weren’t mine.
If I had told Dr. Benard that, I would have looked stupid.
The 3 hours of wait for the test results to come through were the longest.
I knew that I was wasting my precious time there. These kids were mine. Rebecca was the most caring woman I ever met. No way she had sired these kids outside our matrimony. But I needed to get these accusations outside my head. Especially now that the person who was tabling them knew almost everything about me and my family.
To make matters worse, it was the second time I was receiving this request for DNA in a span of two weeks. I had to fullfil my curiosity.
3 hours. The wait was over.
I was sitted at the hospital’s waiting Bay, and I could see Dr. Benard approaching where I sat. He was holding a large white envelope. Perhaps the envelope that was bearing the reality of my daughter’s paternity.
His face was unsuggestive.
He had the usual blank smile that medics gave despite the urgency at hand.
With a pat on the back, he handed me over the DNA results and excused himself as he had emergency surgery at the maternity wing of the hospital. He then dashed off.
I left the hospital lobby area and headed to the parking lot. My car was the third from the exit.
The plan was to read the DNA results, confirm paternity, the trash the papers before driving home to join my family for dinner.
At the car, I ripped off the envelope and glanced at the results right in front of me.
The words NOT MATCHING and NEGATIVE screamt back at me in large writings.
My heart sunk.
My entire well being shut down.
The shock I had, completely formatted my entire existence.
To be very honest, I don’t know how I got home.
All I remember is that I wanted to get hold of Rebecca, dead or alive.
This was high voltage betrayal.
The DNA results boldly indicated that my neuro-systems weren’t matching with those of my two daughters. And that meant only one THING.
I was raising someone’s else’s children.
My wife Rebecca had forfeited our sacred covenant. She had badly insulted my manly endeavor.
My wife Rebecca was a complete bitch. A good for nothing slut who had the audacity to get children outside our home and make me raise the kids!
I drove home with lethal anger. I didn’t want any explanation from that woman. All I wanted was to get her into my hands, dead or alive.
My anger had reached a point of no return.
All I remember is that I drove into my compound and with the DNA results on my arms, made to the house in search of this lousy daughter of Satan.
I found Rebecca watering our backyard orchard and with acidic fury, I blindly landed a heavy kick on her lower belly.
To be honest, I never pictured myself as a violent man. But to make the damning realization that I was raising kids that weren’t mine, I wanted to literally strangle this woman Rebecca.
In full, agonizing and blinding fury, I descended on Rebecca with blows that were powered with insane adrenaline.
I only came to my senses when my daughters Vallery and Joy were painfully screaming and trying to pull me from Rebecca’s badly bruised body. I hadn’t noticed that she had bled so much from my anger driven blows.
In total panic, I realized what I had done.
The screams had attracted the attention of our neighbors and I could see them trying to break the wooden backyard gate and get in to save Rebecca from my lethal anger and acidic disappointment.
Men, you can relate
Raising kids who you thought were yours.
Well, one of the neighbors called in an ambulance and my wife Rebecca was rushed to Mlolongo level 3 hospital. It was such a horror occurrence.
My blood pressure had shot and nothing was making sense to me. Part of me wanted Rebbeca dead for betraying my love and commitment to her. Part of me wanted to get her to hospital and help her stop the bleeding due to the outrageous blows I had subconsciously given her due to anger.
We got to Mlolongo level 3 hospital and together with my neighbors who had intervened the fight, we rushed my CHEAT wife Rebecca into the emergency room.
The doctor who received us was so shocked at the amount of blood that Rebecca had lost, that he opted to take her into emergency surgery.
Together with the two neighbors accompanying me, we were asked to remain calm at the hospital’s waiting Bay for an hour. During the said one hour, the attending doctors would be effecting a massive blood transfusion surgery on Rebbeca.
I sat pensively on one of the benches and cursed the day I was born. An extremely injured wife, two kids who weren’t mine and a looming gender based violence case to answer to.
I felt so defeated.
After what seemed like 2 hours, my phone beeped. On checking I received a text message that read:
” Socrates, sorry for texting you this late, this is Dr. Benard of Oasis Doctor’s Plaza. I am the one who conducted the DNA test on you and your 2 daughters. To be honest Socrates, your wife Rebecca was my campus crush and I felt so heartbroken when I didn’t end up with her. I was not able to move on Socrates. So I kept stalking her, her love life and whoever she was with.
Truth is, when u walked in at our private doctor’s plaza for assistance in DNA testing, I saw that this was the perfect chance to revenge on your wife Rebecca for declining my approach for all those years.
Socrates, The two little girls, Joy and Vallery are your biological children bro. I gave you the wrong results. I was just bitter.
Forgive me.
Lastly, keep and protect Rebbeca, she’s a faithful and caring woman’
That message made be rise from my seat at the waiting Bay, scream my lungs out, and curse the day I was born.
WHAAAT??
Dr. Benard faked the DNA results just to revenge on my wife who had regected him during their campus days?
And now Rebbeca my wife was fighting for her life in a surgery room for a mistake she didn’t commit?
How wicked can people be surely????
It’s at that moment that the Surgery room’s door, opened and one of the surgeons attending to Rebbeca walked towards us at the waiting Bay. He walked straight to where I was standing and with a firm grip on my left shoulder, he painfully looked into my eyes and said
‘Socrates, we tried our best.
Sadly, Rebbeca lost alot of blood. She didn’t make it’
By Socrates