Daniel did not sleep before his testimony.
He remained in the workshop, cutting the same piece of wood badly until his apprentice told him to go home.
But which place was home?
To Mama Ruth, he was the son required to protect family unity.
To Nyambura, he was the husband who protected everybody except her.
To the girls, he was the father who visited on Sundays with receipts.
Daniel had always considered himself good because he avoided conflict.
Now the documents showed that his peace always had a payer.
At breakfast, Mama Ruth held his hand.
“Do not say anything that sends Samuel to prison.”
“He forged a document.”
“He is your brother.”
“And the other owners?”
“Nyambura pulled them into her rebellion.”
Samuel entered and claimed the loan had saved the farm.
Daniel asked where the money went.
“Business.”
“The vehicle?”
“For deliveries.”
“Esther’s debt?”
“Family.”
Everything Samuel wanted to protect became family.
Everything Nyambura claimed became greed.
The testimony began.
Beatrice asked whether Daniel travelled with Samuel to inspect the mill.
“Yes.”
“Did you know the chama owned it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Samuel wanted to pledge it?”
“I knew he wanted a family loan.”
“Did you inform Nyambura or the other owners?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Mama said Nyambura would block it and the farm needed a chance.”
“So you remained silent because you expected the owners to refuse.”
Daniel lowered his head.
“Yes.”
He insisted he did not know Samuel would forge a signature.
Beatrice did not argue that point.
She moved to 1984.
“Did you know Nyambura’s dairy and coffee contributions were excluded from the division list?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know the fertiliser debt was placed on the lower parcel although much of the fertiliser served the upper coffee land?”
“I knew there was a dispute.”
“What did you tell your wife?”
“Sign. We will discuss later.”
“Did you create a written compensation plan?”
“No.”
“Did compensation occur?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Daniel looked toward Nyambura.
“She continued working. We were busy.”
The answer hurt more than an insult.
She continued working.
The injustice disappeared because the injured person did not stop producing.
The lawyer asked about Wairimu.
“Did you initially support removing her from school to work for Esther?”
“I thought it would be temporary.”
“What changed?”
“Nyambura refused. Rose explained the consequences. Wairimu said she wanted school.”
“Why did you not see those consequences before?”
“I saw family need first.”
A pattern emerged.
Family request.
Daniel’s silence.
Nyambura’s labour or sacrifice.
A promise of later.
No correction.
The lender’s lawyer argued that marriage could create household rights.
Daniel answered:
“Perhaps there are marital claims between us. But the mill was not bought only with our money. Other women contributed. Benefit is not ownership of the whole asset.”
Mama Ruth began crying.
“You are sending your brother away.”
“Mama, Samuel signed another person’s name.”
“For family debt.”
“Debt does not make the signature hers.”
Outside the hall, Daniel approached Nyambura.
“I told the truth.”
“Yes.”
“It was not easy.”
“It was not easy to live inside the lie.”
“Can you see that I tried?”
“I see that today you did something right.”
“And us?”
“Do not use testimony as a ticket back into marriage.”
He looked wounded.
“I thought—”
“That is the problem. Every responsible act becomes an investment you expect to repay you with a wife.”
“Then what should I do?”
“Do it even if I never return.”
Later, Wairimu refused to speak to him for a week.
When he finally asked why, she said:
“You knew before the signature. Why did you not call Mama?”
“I was afraid the family would break.”
“And what were we?”
Daniel had no lawyer for that question.
He admitted that silence was not neutral.
Wairimu asked him to write that she and Mumbi would not be removed from school or forced into family labour.
He wrote it.
He built a small wooden box for the girls’ certificates, school receipts, and letters.
One key went to Nyambura.
One would go to Wairimu when she was older.
Daniel kept no third key.
He was beginning to understand that protecting something did not require owning access to it.