Going through grief
Trauma is an inevitable part of life. Each new day presents its challenges, distress, and struggles. How we embrace and navigate these experiences determines their impact on our lives. We can choose to be victors or victims. We can allow circumstances to define us, or we defy them and pursue our goals.
I have walked through storms and faced moments that knocked me down and left me helpless. Yet, even when I was down, I refused to stay there. I rose and moved forward with God by my side towards victory.
Five years into my marriage, my husband passed away. My world, once filled with light, and laughter suddenly plunged into darkness and sorrow.
The weight of that loss was suffocating, and the temptation to quit life loomed large. But my two young children became my lifeline; their presence kept me afloat. It took years for me to emerge from that dark shroud and truly live, rather than merely exist.
Widowhood is daunting. When everyone departs, the loneliness that hits, and days filled with unbearable quietness, lingering grief, and pain, feel insurmountable. The fear of facing life, the challenges, and the responsibilities of parenting the children alone are overwhelming.
During this challenging time, I felt blessed to have my family and my husband’s family form a protective shield around me. My mother never left my side. For months, I slept in her room with my children. I could only sleep when I saw her opening her prayer book at night. She was a deeply prayerful woman who never missed midnight prayers, and her devotion was a calming balm to my soul. My grandmother, a prayer warrior also, strengthened me with her prayers and encouraging words.
During the burial, my father-in-law hovered nearby, offering care and support. My mother-in-law, though devastated by the loss of her firstborn, ensured I was okay. She took care of my mother and me throughout that painful time we spent in the village for the burial. My husband’s siblings were wonderful and supportive, throughout.
My father-in-law often invited us to spend Christmas with them in the village, sending transport money when I accepted. My mother-in-law would say, “Ngozi, don’t buy anything when coming; I’ve already bought everything you and the children need. Just come home.” Visiting them was always a pleasure, I could count on Mama’s warm welcome and the special soup she would make for me. And, my father-in-law would ensure they deliver fresh palm wine every morning for me.
I had a caring mother-in-law, who periodically sent me money from her pension, always checking in on our well-being, and a father-in-law who ensured I was comfortable. Their love and support lessened the pain.
However, over time, that protective shield disintegrated. First, my mother, who had helped care for my children while I navigated life’s demands, joined the angels in heaven. Her loss was devastating, and my children felt it deeply. When their father died, they were too young to grasp the gravity of the situation, but my mother’s death left a void they struggled with for a long time. They missed visiting Mama’s room for snacks after school.
Next came another heart-wrenching blow: my mother-in-law succumbed to cancer after a long battle. Her absence felt monumental. She had been a steadfast presence, and supportive, ensuring my eldest son comfortably finished his secondary education in the village.
Soon after, my father-in-law passed away. Years later, my father, who has always supported me emotionally and financially, joined the League of Ancestors.
With the elders gone, I assumed the role of an elder overnight, shouldering enormous responsibilities with unwavering resolve. When life hands you the baton, you take it and continue the race.
Loneliness
My sun went behind the clouds,
Plunging me into an abyss of pain.
A dreary life to live.
Where two walked
I trod alone in trepidation.
Walking the twisting road of life,
With garlands of sorrow.
The emptiness throbbed
My heart wailed with pain.
Waves of grief,
Curls of gloom,
laced my days.
And loneliness
Enveloped my world.
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