For Marion Amukuzi, life as a widow has not been easy.
When she got married to her late husband John Mutunga in April 2009 at a magnificent garden wedding in Nairobi, they both looked forward to a long beautiful life as a couple.
But as fate would have it, their dreams would not materialise as John’s life was suddenly cut short due to an accident.
“John and I met at Maseno University where we were both students. We were in the Christian Union (CU) and at some point, he was our patron. I held him in high esteem because of his position and never thought we could date. But one thing led to another and we grew fond of each other,” says Marion.
In 2005, Marion says they officially started dating.
“From our first date, we knew we were meant for each other and we were getting married soon after campus,” she says.
Marion says getting married to John was the best thing that happened to her.
“Though a few of his relatives and my relatives were not for the idea of a cross cultural marriage - he was Kamba and I am Luhya - nothing could separate us except death, which struck sooner than we both expected,” says Marion.
According to her, they had never talked about death because they knew they would grow old together. Says she: “Almost three years into our marriage, we felt like we were still on honeymoon and life was just beginning. Ours was a beautiful love story and I don’t regret ever having married John.”
On January 11, 2012, the unexpected happened.
“We lived in Imara Daima Estate, Nairobi and on this morning, we left the house for work as usual. I was seven months pregnant. I asked John if we could take a matatu right outside our gate but he was reluctant because the traffic was heavy and so it was faster to walk to Mombasa Road,” she recalls.
She offers: “I can note that he was in a rather pensive mood. Just before we reached Mombasa Road, I suspect the matatu we were to board at the gate came overlapping. I can’t recall exactly what happened because we were walking on the pedestrian path when suddenly John pushed me and I fell on the side of the road flat on my tummy. I heard a loud bang and when I woke up, the matatu was on top of him. I thought I was just having a bad dream. I remember screaming at the top of my voice and asking the people around to help me take him to hospital and I couldn’t understand why nobody was not willing to help. One guy blatantly told me there was no need to take him to hospital because he was already dead but I was not convinced.”
In that confusion, thanks to a good Samaritan who was driving by and had witnessed the incident, Marion got some help.
“She put me in her car and called a friend to watch over me as she continued to call my family members and John’s colleagues. She made sure I did not get out of the car and my attempts to get her to take my husband to hospital did not bear fruit until I was told an ambulance had arrived to pick him.
All this time, I was convinced he was still alive. I thought there was no way God was going to allow this to happen yet I had just lost my dad less than two months before,” she says.
The sad news was broken to her at Mater Hospital. By then, she had suspected all was not well when she saw her husband’s relatives at the hospital.
“I was in a trance and I couldn’t sleep the entire night even with several doses of drugs to help me sleep. I asked my sister to give me her Bible. I would open it randomly and all the verses I read the entire night told me all was well. I would hold my tummy and tell my baby it would be well.
Only once, did I worry about how I was going to single-handedly take care of my baby but before it sank in, God assured me all would be well and I have not been worried ever since,” she says.
For Marion, talking about her life journey helped in her healing.
“My family, friends, John’s former colleagues, including his bosses, our neighbours and the church played a major role in my healing process. They planned the burial in my absence and took care of all the expenses and continued to support me way after the burial. I will forever remain indebted to them,” she says.
At some point, though, Marion says she lost all the confidence she had and this even affected her work.
“I had to go back to work when my baby Ethan John Mutunga, was just two months old because I had spent so much time away and my employer was not going to allow me more time.
I contemplated quitting, but decided to hold on because I did not know what the future had in store for me. Eventually when I quit, God opened another door the very next day. Without God I would have given up a long time ago.”
She attests to the fact that it’s not easy being widowed at 31 and is yet to accept being called a widow.
“I have not known what it means to rest ever since my husband’s death. I have become independent. Insects no longer freak me out as they used to because John is not there to kill them. I fix things in the house and only call for help when it’s major. John’s death sort of awakened me from my slumber,” she says.
She terms her son Ethan as a calm, mature and responsible child, a replica of his dad.
“God took away the big John and gave me a small one who is trying so hard to fit into the big shoes. The best gift that John left me is Ethan and I know I have a big responsibility to take good care of him,” she says.
Though he is too young to notice the gap, Marion says when he comes of age, she is ready to take him through the process of knowing who his father was, and prays he will be glad to know his father was exemplary in character and he loved God.
So what next for Marion?
“I decided I will not linger in the sad memory but move on. God has enabled me to accomplish almost all the dreams we had in a miraculous way, which included going back to school for my Masters,” she says.
“Even though it hurts to lose a loved one, don’t linger forever in the anguish. Little by little, rise up and take the baby steps until you are able to walk strong again,” says Marion.
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