Chapter 5: Chapter 5

“For close to seven hundred years in our family’s history, nobody, I mean no family member has disrespected us so much than my own flesh, my blood, Rita has done to us.” Von Martinson told Rev. Fr. Darren Fonseca, the Parish Priest of Vevey Catholic Church. Rev. Fr. Fonseca replied him. “Voilla, Von. I understand your feelings. But remember that God knows why He allowed all these things to happen to Rita and the entire family. You are concerned about the family honour. But God is concerned with the unknown future. Indeed, let us give time a chance and see what the baby will become.” Von Martinson was still adamant and would not kowtow. “Well Reverend, I have heard you. It is not about me or any individual. It is about the family; the tradition. In the meantime, I will not forget to tell the family your version of the story. Good day.” Von Martinson left the Parish still bent on pursuing his agenda to the latter. The respected Vicar of the Catholic Church had summoned Von Martinson on a beautiful bright Mittwoch (Wednesday) to see whether father and his estranged daughter could be patched together one more time, but later events turned out to widen the relationship even the more.

Whilst trying to resolve this matter, a second issue reared its ugly head, which was more devastating than the first one, thus, enlarging the bond between father and daughter. Rita gave birth to a dark coloured baby. What was so special about dark skinned people that whites skinned folks do not have? Even if you had had an affair out of wedlock, why won’t you take your own specie? In effect, a white skinned-blue eyes bloke to continue the family tradition was the way to go. Now you have adulterated our bloodline. These and many thoughts ran through Von Martinson’s mind when he reluctantly accompanied Rita to the hospital on that fateful 25th January 1993. Immediately he heard that his only daughter has delivered a bouncing baby boy, together with his wife, Von rushed in to see Rita and the new arrival to the family. He was flabbergasted at what he saw, but kept it to himself. He held the hand of his wife and together they left the hospital unceremoniously to the dismay of all the people present. From thereon father and daughter never saw eye to eye. Neither Von Martinson nor his wife ever stepped the hospital. How Rita’s hospital bills were paid and how she was discharged from the hospital became the back case of Senior Martinson and his spouse?

Truly, the situation was unbearably disturbing when Rita and her new born baby were delayed for another week for non-payment of bills. It was at that juncture that Allison, Warly-Warly and Bridgette pooled resources together and solicited some more funds from other well-meaning people from campus and in the community to raise five thousand Swiss Francs (CHF 5000), which was quite substantial enough to discharge Rita from the hospital and to see to the welfare of mother and son for the next six months.

Two weeks after Rita was discharged from the hospital, she called some few friends to her apartments for the naming ceremony of the boy. She invited the Parish Priest of Vevey, Rev. Darren Fonseca, but her parents refused to attend the function. Rev. Fonseca took a bowlful of water, dipped his right hand into it and fetched some and poured onto the head of the baby mentioning his name as given to him by Rita thrice. The baby’s name was Jobson Martinson. He was named Jobson because he was a struggling or suffering son and the family name Martinson was added to complete the equation. The ceremony was short and colourful. Afterwards, wine was served to the congregants, before they departed to their separate ways.

Jobson grew up in a simple home in Vevey. He had a very dramatic childhood. The only people he knew were her mother’s close associates at work, friends from school and the community. He had a fair idea, who his maternal relatives were by virtue of his surname and yet, they had vowed not to have anything to do with him or his mother. To add injury to insults, his mother seemed not to have any clue about the whereabouts of his biological father. From all these formative years through his teens, Jobson dreamt about the day he will find his father, so that all these misery, loneliness and lack of father would cease once and for all. After all, he was not different from any other child of his generation. Even in his class at ‘Peter and John Elementary School’, there were students who were dark-skinned; some darker than himself and yet they were happy go gay kids. Why was his so different; so much so that none of his relatives wanted to come close; Jobson would questioned his gumption many a time and yet could not find any meaning to such life complexities? Was this the only reason or there was more to it than he had anticipated? He believed that if he was able to trace his father, maybe, just maybe he could convince him to marry his mother so that the family will be bonded in order to win the respect of society. Wherefore he shall grow up happily like any other child of his age to develop his God given talents. The questions were where will he starts from, how will he starts and when will he starts this arduous task of looking for his father?

One bright Tuesday afternoon in February, Rita received a called from her office at the Department of Social Welfare, where she worked as Principal Superintendent in Charge of Gender Issues to come to his son’s school, Peter and John Elementary. “What might this be? Has my boy done something terribly wrong?” She soliloquised as she sat in her blue BMW estate car and drove away to meet the school authorities. Twelve minutes later she was ushered into Sister Ms. Brisk’s office at the extreme right corner of the first floor of the two-storey administration block of the school. Every student who has attended this Catholic institution or any Parent whose child has passed through the school knew Sister Brisk as smart and strict old nun, who did not tolerate nonsense. She exuded fairness and justice in all her dealings with people. In effect, Sister Brisk was God fearing and righteous individual. Rita found a chair opposite Sis-ter Brisk. The latter placed a two-page document in front of Rita and said. “Mrs. Martinson.” Rita quickly retorted, “No, not Mrs., but Ms. Martinson. Indeed, my name is Rita Martinson.” Sister Brisk crowed. “Alright Ms. Rita Martin-son! Could you please go through these documents and filled in the blank spaces. Afterwards you might append your signature.” Rita picked the documents and began to read through them. She eventually started filling the documents until she reached the place where it required information on parents and guardians. Rita began to quiz Sister Brisk. “Madam... Eeh, Sister, I am a single parent. Can I leave that portion blank?” “Why, Ms. Martinson. ls Jobson’s father dead? In fact, all along I thought Mr. Von Martinson is his father.” “No.” Replied Rita. “Von is my father and Jobson’s granddad.” Sister Brisk continued to nod in agreement. “Oh I see…..” Sister Brisk momentarily continued to repeat the phrase unknowingly and ignored the presence of Rita. Contrarily, Rita’s eyes were glued onto the documents and fell into trance.

Rita’s mind wandered about until it focused on the event that took place some fifteen years ago at the basement of the twenty storey flats at the 14th Fontainebleau Avenue. One by one, pictures of the events that took place on that day years back raced through her mind’s eye clearly and vividly. She began to question her id as she battled her innate with thoughts such as the motive behind Allison stopping Charlie White’s Mercedes Benz car for the girls to board. Why did they end up at the basement of the flats? What happened between the girls and the boys? Even if there was sexual intercourse, who had who? Was it an all-night orgy? Why did she conceive a black child? Does it meant that the only black boy amongst the white boys did that to her? Anyway, she knew that black African student only by his first name, Greg, since that was how people used to call him on cam-pus. He was senior to all of them, as he was completing his Master of Arts degree in International Business. All that Rita knew about that Greg guy was that he left the shores of Switzerland three days after the Homecoming dance to Africa. Where to in Africa, she had no idea?

In a society of records, however, that one is not a problem, since she can trace it from the International Office of the University or the Ministry of Interior or the Department of migration or even the Police Service of the country. It was just that she had preoccupied herself with the bread and butter issues of working and raising Jobson singlehandedly to the neglect of many begging concerns equally crying for her attention.

“Ms. Martinson.” These words echoed from far away to Rita. She was startled and quickly composed herself. “Yes, Sister Brisk! Eemmm……” Tears begun to streak down her cheeks. She struggled to find her voice. Instantaneously, Sister Brisk got up and leaned over the desk to placate Rita’s right shoulder. “Je suis d’accord. Just sign the form and leave the rest for me.” Rita felt very embarrassed as she completed the form and handed it over to Sister Brisk. She was ashamed as to what Sister Brisk and her team would think about her: cheap sloth, recklessly naughty, ill-mannered, or indiscipline, irrespective of her family's pedigree in the community. Upon all these thoughts sprinting through her mind, she kept her cool to listen to Sister Brisk on the purpose of the documents. “Now, Ms. Martinson, Jobson is among the graduating class who will be promoted into High School this summer. The document you just filled is to assess his eligibility for the Canton Assistance. I mean scholarship. However, based upon the information you had provided, it is evident that you are the sole provider of the family’s income, which further enhanced your son’s chance of securing full scholarship to further his education through High school and even to the University.” Sister Brisk offered her right hand to Rita, who returned hers for a departing shake. “Ms. Martinson, I am glad you came. You will hear from us.” “Thank you very much, Sister Brisk.” Rita replied and rushed out of the office without paying attention to anything around her. She jumped into her car and sped off.