Working from home, I mostly love to sit in my bed (my office) and write alone in the silence. It is so quiet and serene which is great both for my thoughts, and my writing. Although sometimes it can get too comfortable that I lose a whole day 😭. Today, my quiet was interrupted by the wailing and screams of a woman, whose voice sounded familiar. These screams followed a loud thud from what I believe was a man hitting her. The thud sounded again and this time, she screamed even louder. By then, there was commotion as I started hearing the voices or two more women, and that of a another man—aside from the attacker.
The argument continued for quite a while and I couldn’t help but thank God their older kids were not around to watch—being a school day. I could not quite comprehend what they are saying because they are speaking in Kipsigis, but I could hear the clear cut pain and hurt in her vibrating voice. To be honest, such incidents scare the hell out of me 😱 However, every time I pray to God that I never become that woman on the receiving end. I always find myself thinking, but that woman never asked for it either. She too, prayed to never be in that position and yet there she was. So what makes me think I am so special?
You know the saddest thing about such cases is that sometimes—most times—these women stay. They stay, hoping, and praying that it gets better. Because when is it really the right time to leave? And you know, sometimes it is not about traditions and the aspect of women being told to stay, “vumilia” and pray. It is not about, “ what will people say?” It is about a woman who still sees the good in the man she loved. A woman whose heart still has not come to terms with the fact that that man hitting them, is not the same man they fell-in-love with. I woman whose heart is so broken, but one who still loves. 💔💔
Over the past two years, I have seen so many of these cases that, I have involuntarily turned into a really bitter woman. It is very unfortunate for me that I might never see marriages and partnerships in as much positivity as I did before. Or was I just naive and living in a cocoon of the Disney happily ever after? — I loved it better there.
I read on a blog I love (they had shared the post) that the society should stop viewing single mothers as to having broken homes because theirs is not the typical home of a father, mother, and children. Their homes are not broken, they are a conventional home, and happy family of the mother and her kids. Broken homes are unhappy homes filled with chaos, homes where the children live with parents who are always fighting, or homes where the parents do not talk to each other. Such homes and families are so broken that they can only be best described as roommates!
Whenever I hear a child scream because they saw their dad hit their mother, or their mother throw something at their dad and it almost hit them, or the story of how such events happened, my heart (even in a movie, because having seen it in real life, I no longer see it as just fictional acting) I imagine the pain, confusion, anger, and resentment in children brought up in such homes, and how it will affect them as adults, and I wish I there was a prayer, or a magic potion that could make sure they happen.

You know I wish there was a way the contemporary woman could tell and know that their long-term relationship and or marriage would not work in the future. That the person you trust will one day turn into the one that wrecks you, and the family you built together. Then we would simply let them go when it is easy. Because honestly, teaching your heart to leave when you have spent 15 years and shared 2 to 3 kids with them, (and you don’t know who you are without them) that has got to be the literal leap of faith. Sadly, most women do not get the strength to choose themselves and do it. Instead, they choose their families; they stay for their kids. They just are oblivious of the fact that they choose broken families themselves and their kids. We really need to unlearn, and re-learning the definition of a broken home.
❤❤❤❤
Nyambura Macharia
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