IMG_5116.jpgShe sat there looking at the clock. It was now headed to 11:30 p.m. He was not yet home. The food she had made was getting cold. The children had gone to bed almost three hours ago, and her eye lids were demanding to do their God-Given task. She was sleepy…very sleepy.

“I have to keep myself awake” she constantly told herself, hoping that her exhausted body would listen. She had constantly been the one running up and down to keep her family up and running. He never seemed to care.  At least her little babies loved her and appreciated her. It really didn’t matter whether or not he appreciated her. Peace is all she cared for. Peace of heart, mind, body and soul. 11:55 p.m. still no sign of him. She needed to sleep. The less sleep she got, the less productive she was at the office. Her supervisor would not understand. Heck! Everyone had their own problems. Everyone had their own demons to fight. What would make her think that she was more special as compared to everyone else? She was still required at the office on time. Time and again, she thought of her little babies, the only people who gave her peace anytime she thought of them. The only thing she counted a blessing. The only thing that was keeping her alive, her little angels.

There she was, her body lay on the couch all curled up, everything around her began to blur…till pitch black is all there was. “Bang! Bang!” she was startled by a bang on the door. She quickly glanced at the clock. 12:05 a.m. Just ten minutes. It had felt more like a century.  She rushed to open the door that was being banged so hard that you would think that the flying squad was here to arrest you. There he was, finally. Finally, not because there was peace, but because the faster he was home, the faster he would be done with her and the faster the night would be over.  The first thing that hit her was the stench of alcohol, his hair looked unkempt and his eyes…his eyes were as red as a poppy, his shirt was hanging on one side and his tie had become externally displaced. So many thoughts raced through her mind as she started wondering how they had ended up in this mess in the first place.

He made his way into their house, and she closed the door behind him. She walked towards where he had sat and took off his shoes, his coat and his tie. After all, that was her wifely responsibility.

“Wacha nikupashie chakula” she ‘wifely’ told him that she was going to warm his supper for him. Why didn’t she ever learn? He always expected to find food warm, despite the time at which he came. In her head, it didn’t make sense how she would warm the food after every thirty minutes, not knowing what time he would walk in through the door. She paid most of the bills, and even if he did, he would always complain about how expensive having a family was. These words always pierced her heart, always made her regret why she was still married to him for five years.

He slapped her right across the face. Shouting at how irresponsible she was as a wife. How could the food not be warm? “Ni bwana ya nani hajakula saa hii” (whose husband has not eaten at this time?) This question was followed by another slap and then, he removed his belt, and he began to beat her in his drunkenness. Strike after strike. Blow after blow, kick after kick. The pain…the pain was excruciating but as he continued the more numb she became, both to the physical and to the emotional pain.
She had promised to love and cherish this man despite his weaknesses. To hold on and support him. Only she, knew what she went home to everyday. She knew what place he held in her heart. The only thing she wasn’t sure about, is what place she held in his life. She had become emotionally numb. She had become emotionally dead. Her feelings were hurt, but it felt more like a sting that would go away. She was no longer sure that their love was a priority anymore. Tears run down her face as she took the blows from the man she had loved and supported for five years. And what was worse, he would drag her to bed and “make love” to her as he put it. He had defiled an act that she believed was sacred. As he lay on top of her pleasing himself, all she could think about, was how filthy and disgusting she was and how she had been degraded and devalued.

How many times have you felt devalued, degraded, filthy, dirty, unworthy, all because you did not know what your place was, all because you chose to hang on to something that made you forget how good it felt to be loved and appreciated, to be valued and held highly. Something that made you become emotionally numb, to the point that all you know is pain, and goodness is not an option for you? You need to walk away and not look back or else, you will join Lot’s wife’s “squad”.

Today, the sting she felt, was enough to make her walk away. As she walks away with her two angels beside her she feels hopeful that there is something better for her. She gave her best to the very end. As  their eyes meet on the corridors of the courtroom, with him being in handcuffs, she knows they will meet again, but she will be in a better place. She will know her value and her worth and she will put him in his place.

Not knowing where you stand in someone’s life is a slow                             emotional death. The longer you hold on, the more numb you become.”   r.h. sin


Elvis 20160613_215917

XoXo with love,


8 thoughts

  • yours my sister is a masterpiece. written with a patient attention to language, structure and detail. its ability to connect with the hearts longings is just but amazing.
    great job. keep up.

  • Great masterpiece.
    I like your artistic work with words. Surely arts wouldn’t die a natural death with you around.
    Going right down to the wire. It is a real eye opener, gladly to the fairer sex.
    Distancing myself from the premonition notion of the world, and more so Kenya, being a patriarchal society, the article concisely details the filthy blips that are vested upon endearing and submissive women.
    Should our men learn from this.
    I am a man, rightly so, and i don’t want to create storms in a tea cup….only would we sieve lessons from EMOTIONALLY NUMB.

    Wanjiru Kanyiri, it was a pleasure. Learning is incessant, I’ve learnt.

  • Amazing amazing article. What a great piece coming from a great writer as well. Today the adage that best things are said through the power of the pen has been fulfilled in this amazing article. All the best in your future writtings cant wait for more…😊

Leave a Reply