I don’t know whether to be mad at my father for cheating on my mum, or mad at God for letting him die of AIDS. It scares me that when he was alive I knew him as a great dad who I thought could do no wrong, and was invincible. Only years later I learnt that he was a flawed man and he was far from invincible. All I have to hold on to was the fact that he protected my mother from the disease so I was not orphaned. Some cousins of mine were orphaned because of this disease, and life has not been not kind to them.

If I can’t blame God, and I don’t want to blame my father, that means I end up blaming myself for no reason. Hence the guilty complex I’ve struggled with for my whole life.