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Celebrated Cop Albert Kipchumba Narrates How He Was Tortured By Relatives, After Mother’s Death

Celebrated police officer Albert Kipchumba has for the first time shared his heartbreaking experience he underwent under the care of his relatives when he was a Form One student.

According to the flamboyant cop, he went through tough times under the hands of his relatives. At that time, Albert was being brought up by his grandmother since her mother had passed on.

This is where relatives came in to help. But instead of helping, they tortured and almost killed him.

One day, when he came back from school, he was pinned down and beaten thoroughly by grown men who never explained what his mistake was.

Here’s his saddening story:

My days in Form 1 in Marakwet High School were great and entertaining. At least I could get meals unlike primary school where eating was not a must. I didn’t expect much from my aging grandmother now in her 90s. It was my time to go for vibarua and buy some food items at home to sustain us.
I remember I came home to my close relatives with a report card from Marakwet High School that I was number one in 1st term Form 1 expecting verbal appreciation.
I had carried my school metal box and mattress to use at home that closing day. In the morning, Matatus were at school carrying students to their village shopping centres. With no bus fare and my bones not strong enough to carry the heavy box, I had to walk for 9 kms with them.
On arrival at Stoughton village I found this uncle family had already taken their lunch and I waited for supper which we ate together. It was nice being at home, now as a Form 1 student on my 1st term.
We woke up the following day and as usual we went to their kitchen where breakfast is usually served. I had both my school sweater and trouser on.
As soon as I entered the kitchen then all of a sudden, I saw the door closed. I didn’t know why neither did it come to my young mind that what was about to happen to me would leave an emotional pain and a scar that will be difficult to heal the rest of my life.
Two sons of that family who are older than me in age and and strength, their mother and father and my cousin from my elder paternal uncle who’s also is older in age and stronger than me got hold of me and all the four of them pinned me down on the floor.
The grip was so powerful that my feeble body couldn’t resist.  I didn’t know why they were doing this to me and was not given an explanation why they were doing so. The hold was so powerful that it ensured I wouldn’t move at all. Satisfied with the grip, they begun whipping me in turns.
They had prepared whips from a certain hardwood tree that won’t break easily. The beating that lasted almost 20 minutes non stop was so painful and unbearable. I cried for help but none was there to rescue me. The neighbors wouldn’t know the voice of the one crying as they were usually familiar with the voices of boys cry and would easily guess who had his day with the elders. But the voice wasn’t for a boy.
Could be a thug had been cornered and was paying for his heinous act. At such situations, rescue was minimal as they were allowed to pay for their crimes. The cry was loud but it faded slowly as I ran out of energy.
I wish I knew what crime I had committed I would bare with the torture and affliction! I wouldn’t feel the pain anymore. I looked helplessly at the underworld; the eternal resting place of my mother.
Mum where are you? I felt pain in my navel; the holy mark that connected to my mum. They are doing this because there’s no one to defend me. There was no one who would question them on their heinous act on me. Mum why did you leave me?
They opened the door and let me go. I couldn’t walk far. I fell down and slept on the grass outside. I didn’t have breakfast. After some time I picked my school box and my school mattress and walked to my father’s neglected hut. I did some cleaning and at the age of 14, I begun living alone….

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