‘Experience is the best teacher’. This a saying I grew up hearing my mother recall day after day. However, not until a short time after my marriage that I got the real meaning of this saying. After a short while in my marriage, the tragic death of my husband is an event, encrypted deep into my mind that I believe will be hard to erase. This was unexpected, unprepared for, and worse of all; it came at the wrong time, when we just had our first born, a sixteen month old son. Not any other experience has ever changed my being, my life expectations, my feelings and to a great extent, my persona like this disastrous event.I grew up in a Christian family. I was introduced to church when I was young in age. My mother kept us at pace with the word of God. I used to read the Bible and even to lead with players in our family at a very young age. At the Sunday school everyone knew me. I held God and the Christian principles dear to my life. I could not do anything without consulting the ’spiritual powers’. I think here is where I lost it all. I grew to believe that all evil or what I regard as evil in that matter is brought about by the devil. That God cannot bring misfortunes in our lives. As I came to learn later, this was a misconception, and a misinterpretation of the Word.

I was married at the right age and the better; I was married by a Christian husband. We sought the blessings of God, and those of our families as per the teachings of the Christian doctrine. Friends and relatives brought gifts and cheered us up on the day of our wedding. We started life happily with a memorable honeymoon. The two of us had preserved our chastity and virginity, and we expected that nature will reward us by presenting to us the best lives ever. I remember the many times that boys approached me and I fiercely, like a lioness, turned them away. I had a vision; to preserve everything for my life’s husband. I had missed the point.The devil, as I would purport, could not wait for us to settle. We all had good jobs, and providing for the two of us was not a burden. Cars we had; not one but many. Living in a mansion at the best part of the city was not a luxury to us. We decided to have a child.

A year later I conceived and got a bouncing baby boy. The baby was healthy, and it grew well. Life seemed good, apart from the normal hiccups here and there. I had a great reflection in our lives. I used to remember of the days when my mother narrated to me about living a fulfilled relationship; that a husband was important. I used to think of what I had not fulfilled since I had a husband. I was wrong.With no one expecting such a misfortune, the worst happened. It was a calm cold evening. A sinister evening indeed. Tears will always flow when I remember this evening. It is my mother who caused it. I will never blame her. She was saving a live. My husband was unwell and reported mild headache. My mum was always caring. She couldn’t allow her to suffer. She took some tablets and administered to him. It was the end of my life; because my happiness went to rest with him.

Life has never been the same again. My body has refused to gain weight. My mind has refused to think. My happiness has refused to come back. My God has refused to tell me why He did this, but I will not face Him to ask him. Remembering this event, I only feel like requesting the earth to swallow me alive. I lost what I will never get, and life will not be enjoyable yet again.