"Who is she? She's not from around here." She is me, Khawaga Kid and I'm writing a memoir called Khawaga Kid. Moving around all over the world since the age of four, I've had many hometowns that I love, yet none of them really claim me, always moving, becoming a foreigner even in my own family.
I called her yesterday because I rescheduled my appointment in town. I bake a pan of cornbread for her and she freezes it. Despising V does not keep me from loving our Mama/Momma.
I call my mother our Mama/Momma in my writing because her girls spelled it differently. When I write to her on cards, letters, gifts, I spell her name Mama. When Sheila wrote to her on cards, letters, gifts, she spelled her name Momma. Yes. To me her name is Mama and Mama is another word for love.
But that V!!! Anyway, I knew I had to let her know so she wouldn’t be waiting and wondering about me and her cornbread. Our conversation went well. I really do miss my Mama….
Khawaga Kid. My memoir. I can write freely now, not blocked by the last secret. The secret of V.
Protector of our mother. The woman I ran away from in 1979. The woman I locked out of my house on April 3, 2019. V is short for Vicious. First Mate of Kabtn Khawaga. I am their Khawaga Kid.
Protector of Mama/Momma. Vicious V is relentless. I was the hostage of a woman in her 70’s until I locked her out of my house. It was insane and yes, I documented the entire process.
V. The final secret. I told her about my new endeavor, the Coastal Coercive Control Coalition. We had a pleasant phone conversation. But….5 hours later, she calls “Don’t have anything to do with your father.” Then she goes into the spiel.
Listen. Remain silent. “Robin, are you there?” V finally asks. “Yes, I’m here.” She conversates. I listen. She finally says, “I don’t know why you have anything to do with the asshole.” I said, “Actually, I’m dealing with two, and both of you are in denial.”
V. The woman who told me she didn’t want to hear my Psychobabble Bullshit when I told her, “Sick parents make sick kids.” Kabtn Khawaga and his First Mate V dismiss V’s suicide attempt. So does everyone else. I have tried to “get help”. There is no help available for a psychological hostage.
C4. It’s gonna be dynamite, blowing the cover on coercive control.
I act because it’s been easier to be a character. The Patriarchal Terrorist I used to call Daddy acts all the time. Behind closed doors he shows his true self, but I still have to act.
Act like nothing is wrong. The perfect family facade. I’ve been a hostage since October 31, 1962. I didn’t know how to break free of the Coercive Control. But I stepped out of the shadows after hearing once again,”There is nothing you can do.”
But there is something I can do. I can be a voice for the voiceless. I have founded the
C4 the Coastal Coercive Control Coalition
Preparing for my first Awareness Event in Gulfport, Mississippi on October 14, 2020.
I’m free; free to be me. Who am I? Advocate. Educator. Sharing what I have learned. With every agency, doctor, attorney, clergy, family, friends; even the Patriarchal Terrorist himself told me, “There’s nothing you can do.”
My husband treats me like a queen. He was there on November 16, 2006 when you decided to drop back into my life. Fourteen years of not letting you drop back out when things didn’t go your way. You, the Patriarchal Terrorist.
In my memoir, you are Kabtn Khawaga and I am your Khawaga Kid.
In my fiction, you are Rico Mack and I am Khaki Mack. Rico Mack is kingpin of the Coastal Cartel. I am your nemesis, your worst nightmare; the daughter most like you, and you despise me for knowing your truth.