the signatures had been copied from his employment documents.
He said the account connected to me was false.
Kato appeared by video and testified that I had refused to cooperate because I was ashamed of my son.
The court sent letters to an address Kato provided.
It belonged to an abandoned house in another district.
Without testimony from home and without money for an experienced lawyer, Daniel was convicted.
Naomi had been pregnant then.
Kato’s company canceled her residence sponsorship and forced her to leave the country.
Daniel believed she had abandoned him too.
For more than two years, each of them thought the other had disappeared by choice.
A prison volunteer finally found Naomi through an old hospital registration connected to Micah’s birth.
She began working with an appeal organization, but they needed original documents proving how Daniel’s signature and my identity had been obtained.
That was why Daniel had sent her to me.
“The blue envelope may connect Kato directly to the false account records,” Njeri said.
“But we will not know until a forensic officer opens it.”
The next morning, I traveled to the district court with Naomi and Micah.
I had rarely left my village.
The courthouse seemed enormous, with high walls and corridors filled with people carrying files.
My hands trembled when I placed them on the witness table.
Njeri asked me simple questions.
Did I own a foreign bank account?
No.
Had Daniel ever sent me large sums of money?
No.
Had I signed the statement used in his trial?
No.
Had Kato arranged Daniel’s employment?
Yes.
I showed the court Daniel’s original contract.
The signature on it matched the genuine signature in his university records.
The disputed banking forms contained small differences: the final stroke leaned upward, and the middle initial was shaped incorrectly.
A handwriting examiner later confirmed that the signatures had likely been traced from the contract.
The blue envelope was opened in a laboratory three days later.
Its inner lining had been glued over a second sheet of thin paper.
Printed on that sheet were account numbers, transfer codes, and initials matching Kato and Vale.
The paper also carried a partial fingerprint belonging to Kato.
Njeri believed the sheet had been hidden there accidentally during a hurried meeting.
Kato had probably used the envelope to carry transaction notes before repurposing it for Daniel’s travel documents.
He had forgotten what remained inside.
But the envelope was not enough by itself.
Kato denied everything.
He claimed Daniel had planted the paper years earlier.
He said the cash in my house had been a charitable gift.
His lawyers argued that the account codes could refer to legitimate company business.
Then Kato made another mistake.
He called Naomi.
She was sitting beside me when her phone rang.
Njeri had already instructed her to record any contact from him, where legally permitted, and to put the call on speaker.
“You have a child to protect,” Kato told her.
“Take the boy and disappear.
Grace is old.
She will not survive a long court fight.”
Naomi’s fingers shook, but her voice remained steady.
“And Daniel?”
“Daniel should have signed what he was told to sign.”
“You framed him.”
Kato paused.
Then he said, “I gave him every chance to protect himself.
He chose his principles.”
The
