He wasn’t doing a thing that I could see, except standing there leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together.
I tried not to glance at him but It was like trying not to see the sun because you see it even if you don’t look its way. So I saw him. And that’s when an interesting thing happened:
See although I am one of those people who can turn small decisions into a major production because of an obsession with avoiding mistakes, that evening as I walked back to my room and sunk in the armchair,I knew one thing:
I will marry Harry Jackson. He knew two years later on. But that was not the only thing he did not know off.
My name is Sarry. . .And many years later as I watched the gray curtain of the world rollback, one thing flashed through my mind like darts of lightning:
The warm evening when I first saw Harry Jackson.
A woman wants a man to be his last romance and a man wants a woman to be his first. So in case you wondering about the other thing I said he found out was he was my first romance.
And therefore its no surprise that the night after our wedding my friends who knew how complicated I could be only wanted to know one thing: Why did I settle on him?
For one Harry Jackson was handsome: curly hair, eyes the color of the ocean seen from a moonlight reflection, a rounded forehead 5- foot 10 and 160 pounds of pure chocolate.
But there was one more important reason: he was sweet, kind and knew how to make me feel like the most loved woman in the world. For example, after our 7th date, I received a hand-written note In the mail saying”This could be the start of something BIG”I’ve never felt so thrilled!
And did I also mention Jackson had rare sharp wits?
For example, before our wedding, we attended a parenting class at the Serena Hotel. On a section of sex education, the trainer asked the class,
“What is one thing you were told will happen in school sex education class that never happened”
Jackson answered, ”That I will one day have sex”
Even the overly serious university sociology professor who was taking us the through the course could not hold off the laughter. Also after that day, Jackson got a free invitation to every of the trainer’s future classes- free.
Magnetic! Yea that was my Jackson! Everywhere we went he drew people in like a moth to light and still he made me feel like I am the only one that mattered. How could I not love him?
My dad spotted the young man’s unique gift.
The dream liner
A worthy battle
So After we settled in marriage he had a suggestion: Why can’t Jackson run for the member of parliament?
Jackson had no money and his background was poor. Actually, Jackson story was his parents had died when he was a little boy so he was raised by his uncles family. They were not always fair to him and had put him through hell.
So on his new dream, I pulled every resource I could manage. I took a huge loan, fundraised from friends, family, sold some prime properties I had acquired when I was working at a real estate company and helped him run a campaign for a member of parliament.
Running the campaign was unlike anything I had ever imagined. We would wake up at 3 am every day and go over the day’s diary. We would meet elders in barazas, women in villages, farmers in coffee farms and in the evening we would hit the pubs to talk with the youths. At the end of the day my feet would be sole and my hands red from shaking hands. And that went on for three years
Jackson won or we won.
I say we won because although by the end all my savings had been drained, leaving me with a huge bank and Sacco loans I have never felt such a high before. What a mighty thing to give yourself fully to another?
On the night Jackson was declared the close race winner, I looked at his beaming face as he picked the certificate. How happy he was?. As he hugged me I looked deep in his eyes and I could not be mistaken: there were no other eyes like those in the world.
Yes to make this journey possible I had to desert all my long-held dreams so I can help make his dream come true. But One thing was clear to me: it was the most rewarding part of my life.it was fulfilling because What is love in its best? Is it not giving yourself wholly to another? is it not the certainty you can die willingly for this person so he can live?
So As I held onto those eyes, I knew I was in the arms of the only person in the world who could concentrate for me all the brightness and meaning of life. Tears flowed freely from my eyes.
5 years later…
Sometimes the person you can take a bullet for ends up being the one on the other end of the gun.
The scent of a woman.
I do not care to explain how I first learned my husband was having an affair. So all I can say is it involved: a good sense of smell and my best friend.The best friend I had told him always wanted every good thing I had.
On second thoughts I can also add one more thing:
I found out because every lie has an expiry date.
And that is not the only time he cheated.It was just the only and the last time my husband tried to put up a decent denial.
Everything happened fast that all I remember is:
One day I woke up and the colors were different, there was an acrid smell in the air I couldn’t understand dimensions as even all the parameters were altered and there was too many layers of everything and it was impossible to focus.
But in case you wondering, This was not depression.I had been depressed before. This was me going through something I don’t have a name for. My world had turned upside down and Everything I had grown accustomed to all my life was no longer there.I was trapped inside my own mind. joy, happiness, and life excitement were replaced with agony, anxiety, and sorrow.
And I felt like the person I was had been replaced with an underworld version..
I felt utterly alone in the world with no one and nothing.
And by nothing I mean also My husband had taken all the possessions and he had loans attached to the remaining Of what I owned.
The day I asked about the finances was the first day he became violent. And from then on, the violence kept coming.
For example, If I asked him about why another woman is calling all night, he would slam me, blame me then add nasty takedowns mixed with emotional blackmail till I was down on my knees begging for forgiveness. Begging for forgiveness for ever suspecting him. Begging him not to leave me.Yes, he demanded I bed the knee and beg him not to leave me.
And I did. I begged because:
He had me BY THE HEART
A right to hope and suffer
The question I have asked my self many times is why did I not leave?
And well like I said he had me by the heart.
I could not imagine my life without him. More important I could not imagine him with another woman. Yes, he was a serial cheat but at least everyone thought he was mine. And for some reason that mattered a lot to me.
Did I have hope things could change? yes, sort off.
And all I asked for was my right to hope and suffer.
Then one night I asked him if he would want to have another baby?. I thought another baby would bring some love back.
“yes, but not with you”.
I sunk and wept all night. Of all things, he had done that cut deep.
But still, I had to try. So desperate to keep my husband I began working hard to have him back. I began a cardio workout, worked on my tan and even dyed my hair.
And the effort seemed to work for a while and I was happy with the bare minimum like the courtesy of telling me I won’t come home today.
Then one day, months later, I chanced on his phone in the dressing room table with a video open on the screen waiting for me to press play.
The video was of live footage of my husband dancing in a club with three girls with booty shorts. And there was a shot of one girl coming up to him, holding him and giving him a French kiss. The shot seemed like my husband was holding his phone like he was filming from his POV.The smacking noise that ensued left no doubt of what was happening.
I think he had left the phone on purpose so I could see the video.
When he came back in I put both hands on his shoulders and stared at him long, with a beseeching deep look. Mastering the last ounce of faith I asked if there is something we can do to make the marriage work,
He said,’it’s not possible.”
My voice sinking I asked why not?
And well his answer was,“How do I explain that I have never loved you”
The rejection stung my heart. I felt like a dog with fireworks going off all over the place and with nowhere to run or hide.
I rapidly left the room .went to the spare bedroom and began cleaning the floor. I scrubbed the 15ft square floor for what must have been more than three hours. Then I sat down at the cold floor and stared at the nothingness.I did not cry or weep. The pain had reached the highest threshold.
The need to be free
Loved or conquered?
I thought of the lies, the troubles, falsehoods, cruelty, the sorrow.I asked myself Was there something intrinsically wrong with me? Were there signs this would come to this?. Where do I go from here with no one or nothing?.
The questions rummaging through my mind were too much and gave me a headache. Luckily I fell into a long state of dreamless sleep.And for the first time in months I had peace: a dark peace. The peace of someone with nothing left to lose-no pride, no positive self-concept no lofty dreams.
Some spiritual teachers say it’s at that state of being nothing that awakening happenings. For me, something different awakened in me.
My husband must have left for some duties. So I woke up to him asking me what we were having for supper?
I went to the kitchen and began preparing some lettuces and vegetables. The house girl had left to visit her parents in Kisii a week earlier.
Next to the chopping board was my husband’s phone. It rang and the number read as “baby classy”.So he picked the call and began conversing.I cannot explain how the knife in my hand moved from the chopping board to his shoulders, then neck, tummy, legs…
My husband died today or yesterday. I am not sure.
This post is a response to the increasing cases of spousal homicides