She is her father’s look – alike. She has his aquiline nose, pouty lips and descending hairline. Her short stature and chocolate perplexion are the only features she took after her mother. She is a constant reminder of her father to the people who knew him. Her mother had told her that he died in a road accident when she was three, twenty years ago. As she grew older, she had pestered her mother to take her to his grave but her mother dismissed the idea. ‘It will bring more pain than relief,’ she said. Kristin never brought it up again. When she joined State House Girls, she carried his passport photo and pinned it on the inside of her locker. She would look at his grinning face every day and smile back at him. She believed he was watching over her from wherever he was. During the school visiting days, her friends would buzz her ears with stories about their fathers. ‘My dad does not even know how to shop. He brought me Dettol Cool soap instead of Dettol Even tone,’ one would grumble. ‘Lucky you. My dad only brought a newspaper!’ another would chime. ‘Mine came late and […]
