From Widow To Witch and Then A Warrior!

My spouse left me all of a sudden. Death is something we frequently do not perceive coming, but the manner he was taken away from us was totally unexpected. Although we had been married for many years, we still found it difficult to get along. I worked in a supermarket and made only enough money to buy a bag of peanuts from where I worked. My husband, even though he was a qualified engineer, was still looking for his spot in life.

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Our total income was very small, but somehow we managed to meet the monthly rent, pay for the power and water, and also cover the college tuition for his brother, William, who was staying with us. My husband was working so hard for William because he didn’t want to be the one who held the boy back. I supported him because we were in this together.

Just then my husband got a big catch and his salary just got much higher. He got a car and a good house for us in a nice neighborhood that was good for his new status within two years. William completed his studies and relocated to another country. We had two kids. Every night when we were together in the house where we had been daily thankful to God for the food on the table, we were still asking Him, “What’s next?”

The side business my husband started did very well. I also went back to school, got my degree, and landed a nice paying job. We became a couple in love not only in life but also in business. But a year before we both quit to become self-employed, my husband went on a trip and came back a different person—he had an accident. His body was in terrible shape. I just can’t go to see him like this, and I am thankful I don’t have a memory of his last moments; it would have been a lifetime of haunting for me.

On the third day after his death, my husband’s uncle rang me up. That was the first time since our wedding I had spoken to him. My husband’s father had died, and he had assumed the role of a father figure during our marriage. His words were, “You’ve managed to kill my son, but don’t think you will get his properties. We won’t let it happen.”

I cried no more and felt like I was choking. “What does he mean? The death of my husband is nothing to him but the properties?” I tried to reach my husband’s mother but she didn't pick up. After several unsuccessful calls my husband’s elder sister finally answered. “What do you want from us? You are not planning to kill us too? You witch! What is your demand? We suggest you vacate the premises before we come for you,” she warned.

It was like a bad dream that wouldn’t end. My little one came in to console me, and if not for that, I might have been living in a world of denial. I had a conversation with my parents and told them everything. Father said, “Come back home. They can take anything they want. You are alive, and that’s what counts.”

During the process of mourning my husband, I also mourned the mistreatment I endured from his family. I did not strike back; rather, I waited with patience till the time of burial. The funeral was such that I was completely ignored, almost as if I were a nonentity to the deceased. I wasn’t even given the opportunity to give my input, and upon their noticing me, one of them said I was a witch. My family was always facing disgrace, and after the funeral, my mother took me home and said, “Get your stuff; we are going.” I said, “What? Where? They will have to kill me before I go.”

I turned out to be a warrior of a different kind. My sister-in-law had a very wrong perception of me and only realized my strength when it was too late. She ran away and never came back. When the matter escalated, I went to the court. My husband’s uncle came to my place at night and whispered, “You may win this battle, but there is another one you can’t win. Just watch.”

I was paralyzed by fear. I had a clear picture of their capabilities. So, I secured a new apartment and moved in with my kids. It was a ritual; every time we went to court, I fell critically ill, and once or twice it could be said that I was almost dead. All this happened thrice. Meanwhile, the family was taking over my husband’s estate, and I was left battling health issues.

A day came when my husband's little brother William called me up. He told me, "I will take you and the kids with me. Passports should be worked on right away. My family is up to something really bad. It is better for you to go before they are at your door."

Although the flight took a long time, finally my kids went out first, and I came after them. William told me, "Your non-parte presence was downright scary for them, so they were going the extra mile to get you out of the picture. I have a mole who lets me in on their planning. They are coming to murder you."

Fear took me, and I was crying and shaking all over. He calmed me and stayed with me till I got a job. The kids were going to school, and he was beside us till I got firm on my feet. He still comes to our aid even today.

When I encountered Julius and he asked for my hand, I told William before my family did. He responded, "I was not aware you wanted something like that; I would have set it up for you a long time ago." We had a good laugh about it, and he was the only one from the family who witnessed our marriage.

Currently, the family of my ex-husband has consumed everything and is still arguing over the house that is not yet finished. His uncle has tried selling it thrice, however, they found it out which caused a huge quarrel. I lost my partner and they obtained estates. They have also begun casting spells on each other.

Today one person has a swollen foot and tomorrow another one has a stomach which is bulging. I pray for them, but I will not forgive nor forget what they did to me. In the end, I will always be thankful for William’s backing. Had he not acted as a support for me, I could have been just another obituary.

—Lucy

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