After widowed just at womanhood.
Having been processed by the fire of Segregation, Alienation, Victimization and Exploitation by family, culture, church, government and economy in
widowhood; is refined good enough to redefine the status of The Widows Agenda using my profession through media. #Education #Prevention #Change
In Africa, widows endure a silent crisis, discrimination, disinheritance, and exclusion that strips them of dignity and hope. Caught between cultural oppression and systemic neglect, they grapple with economic hardship and political invisibility and deny access to basic services. This isn’t just a personal tragedy; it’s a structural failure demanding bold, intentional policies at national and international levels. Inclusion isn’t a luxury, it’s a moral and strategic imperative.
The 2024 International Women’s Day theme, Inspire Inclusion, casts a spotlight on this overdue reckoning. While gender equality strides forward, widows remain in the shadows, their plight obscured by a lack of specific data, buried under broader women’s issues. This erasure from statistics and planning isn’t accidental, it’s a systemic flaw that deepens their disenfranchisement. Grassroots efforts by NGOs offer fleeting relief, but only governance-rooted solutions can forge lasting change. UN Women calls this exclusion a “sin of omission”, a charge African leaders can no longer dodge.
Widows face a brutal double bind. Within their communities, traditions like ritual cleansing and forced disinheritance degrade them, reducing their status to less than human, stripping away land, rights, and respect. Beyond these cultural wounds, governments compound their suffering with indifference, overlooking them in policies for economic opportunity, healthcare, and housing. When culture fails them, no safety net catches them, only poverty and isolation remain.
History offers a lesson: Western nations tackled widow destitution centuries ago with pensions and benefits, recognizing their unique vulnerability. Africa, however, lags, leaving widows economically adrift, their needs lost in vague women’s initiatives. This contradicts the continent’s own ambitions, Agenda 2063 and SDG 5 on gender equality ring hollow without widows at their core. They deserve distinct recognition, not invisibility. The path forward demands action woven into every layer of society. Governments must track widows in censuses and budgets, ensuring their realities shape policy. Economic programs should channel funds to their businesses, while education and healthcare systems extend tailored support to them and their children. Dedicated widow desks, within UN Women, the African Union, and local councils, should amplify their voices, staffed by widows themselves to anchor grassroots change. Representation must be mandatory, with their perspectives driving decisions, backed by funding for widow-led initiatives.
This isn’t charity; it’s justice. Handouts won’t suffice, legal reforms must shield against disinheritance, training centers must replace temporary aid, and peace efforts in conflict zones must prioritize their security. The African Union and UN Women must weave widows into every gender equality thread, from local debates to global stages. Their exclusion is a human rights stain, not just a gender gap. As Africa eyes Agenda 2063 and SDG 2030, widows must stand at the forefront. They’re not burdens but untapped assets, ready to thrive with empowerment. True progress hinges on uplifting the vulnerable, widows aren’t invisible, and we choose not to see them. Their exclusion is a human rights violation, not just a gender issue.
As Africa pursues Agenda 2063 and SDG 2030, widows must be prioritized. Peace means justice and dignity for all, and widows deserve both. They’re not burdens; they’re assets awaiting empowerment. The true test of progress is how we treat the vulnerable, Africa must act now.
She’s Bamgbose Ajibola Eunice, a Second-Class Upper graduate of Peace and Conflict Studies from Federal University, Oye-Ekiti, Ekiti State.
She’s in dire need of financial assistance for urgent surgery so “I can live normally” she said my current condition has inhibited my mobility and ability to function well in my day-to-day activities”.
She said “It’s a different kind of trauma when you feel pain most of your life from a very young age. When you know pain. Not the kind of pain experienced when you hit your foot against a table or the disappointment that comes in failing an exam. But the kind of pain that is felt even beyond the physical. The kind of pain you hope to end, but know there’s nothing you can do to relieve it because of finance”.
At about age six, I started feeling some discomfort in my left leg, so bad I couldn’t stand up with increasing temperature. I was taken to a general hospital in Abeokuta. With medication the pain reduces, only to reappear.
As I turned eight, my father died in a fire accident with third-degree burns on his way from work, leaving a pregnant mother and daughter to survive on their own. Just then, the symptoms on my left leg started again, never really had time to process the grief of my loss; it was as if the pain didn’t want my father to see the anguish of his daughter.
The magnitude of the pain on my left leg this time has shrunken my leg size as I started to limp, and I could hardly sleep at night.
My mother, in fear, took me to hospitals back to back, with different doctors saying different things. My life is all about drugs and physiotherapy.
I was always on different medication, both medical and traditional, to battle with the pain. All hospitals, tests and medication were wrongly diagnosed as our trip to National Orthopedic Hospital in Igbobi, changed the narrative. In further inquest, I was referred to another hospital where a test result came positive of tuberculosis of the bone.
After the excruciating 18 months of treatment, isolation, exclusion and usage of nose masks years before Covid-19, my joy knew no bounds when my retest results confirmed healing; negative, but was dashed to hear that the ligament connecting my hip and cervical bones was infected by bacteria from the disease.
At the age of thirteen, I was diagnosed with TB arthritis. Some doctors called it ‘hip inflammation virus’. But it was mostly referred to as ‘TB arthritis that has led to hip inflammation.’ I felt dejected. I had hoped that all the laborious daily intake of medications for almost two years would be my final solution. But fate was at it again.
I started physiotherapy again. The pains were fierce and unbearable, but I became so used to it that I expected it each waking moment. This pain became my personal devil – an evil presence I had to live with. The doctors suggested a surgery, but they wanted it to be a last resort. After a few years of all action, in 2019, my doctor told me I had to do a surgery as soon as possible.
With these, I continued in school. The condition of the leg caused me a lot of embarrassment, as I often lost balance when walking which resulted in my trip and fall that made people look at and even call me an “ogbanje”.
The pain is increasingly becoming more severe, as I get older and move around. I could have continued the use of medication such as Tramadol and Codeine and endure the painful side effects, but the medical director had warned me of the other damages it could cause to my body and advised me to do the surgery. The initial estimation of the surgery was 1.3 million Naira but the accumulated treatment is estimated at 2.5 million Naira.
I need help ma, use Almanah Hope Foundation to help me, please help me to tell my story. I am 24 years, I just graduated; since age 6; I have lived in pain; older it’s becoming more excruciating with worse being the emotional pain. I want to go to NYSC, get a job and help my mom who for the past 14 years have been taking me around the hospitals.
This young girl, came into my twitter space some 3+ years ago. She appreciated my work with widows, that her mom is a widow. We’ve kept in touch and when she shared her story 8th February, 2022; I was in a state of shock, disbelief, anger and pain because for years she’s been full of smiles, positivity and independence that I couldn’t believe her story. She show no sympathy or anything that show what she was going through.
Let’s save this young girl, donate to her or get to her doctors and pay to the hospital.
Bamgbose Ajibola Eunice Account number 2093337959. UBA Dr Taiwo And Dr Olufem, National Orthopaedic Hospital Igbobi Lagos State.
There’s is indeed no agony like bearing the agony of untold story,
This can seem too long an article but too short for the story. When Bami chatted me up on one issues of widowhood I tweeted, can’t remember exact; with this “I suggest we look at the questions that tackle the cause of this seeming societal disregard for Widows and ensuing nonchalance from government and law officers. Maybe then we can attempt to find a solution. It seems even men whose mum suffered as widows still don’t care”.
The gory of a good woman
I never knew I was about let a young man free from the “conspiracy of silence and secrecy of widowhood” which I thought was only the widow’s dilemma until he wrote “my mum was also a widow for 13yrs before she passed on. Despite her ordeal, we rather saw her as a strong woman than a widow that was denied most of her rights in her husband’s house. Instead of fighting for her, we celebrated her struggles that turned into victory”.
Yet, in all that their celebration, the empty space side of his soul created by his pain didn’t real heal as our discussion showed with my saying to him, tell me your story. With apology he mailed me the article he titled; Mom. Widowed before widow
Holidays never came early enough for a boarding house student. It was supposed to be the time to escape from the hardship of hostel life and walk into the warm embrace of your home. This time, it wasn’t the case for me. I had just been given my end of session report sheet and my cumulative marks didn’t meet the required percentage for promotion to the next class. I was asked to repeat the S.S.S 1.
The scars of a boy inside the man
As I journeyed home, I felt pity not for myself but for my hard-working mother who had always tried her best to get me going in school. But you See, I never wanted to go to boarding school. My dad and mum were separated and dad ensured all six children of his were made to depend on mum alone for our upkeep. He essentially blacked out on us. His reason was simple; he accused my mum of being a witch and at such asked us to denounce her or he disowned us. Well, none of the six of us denounced mum so the decision was easy for him. He left and never came back.
So mum struggled really hard to put food on the table for us talk less of paying for our fees. I was the last of six and at such very dear and close to my mum. I could tell her emotions. I knew when she was sad or moody. Most times she held it in until midnight when she would wake up and start to cry. I always woke up and saw her. I sometimes cried silently too. Or just said a silent prayer to God asking for relief for my mum. So throughout my S.S.1, I never concentrated whenever I went to school because I would always imagine what my mum would go through at nights alone in her room. So I unconsciously began a ritual of crying for my mum every night. Yes I meant EVERY NIGHT.
The resultant effect was that I would go to class in the morning with heavy eyes. So i always slept during class. Of course it didn’t take time for my teachers to punish me for that. My classmates also began to mock me, therefore there was only one way out – miss classes. The result was inevitable. I decided to use my experience and mum’s before dad died as a prelude to what would eventually lead to a rude awakening when dad died 4years later.
So at the beginning of the new millennium 2000, on Jan 28, my died after a long protracted illness. He had actually being sick for 2years before he gave up the ghost. During the time of his sickness however, he came to himself and realized how much wrong he had done to my mother and we the children. So he called a friend of his and asked him to reach out to us. So my mum asked the eldest of my siblings to go see him. He went and came back with gory report of how bedridden dad had become. We all took turns to go visit him at the hospital and he was glad to receive us. But he never wanted to see my mum. It wasn’t because he was still bitter towards her. Instead he was too weak and didn’t want his estranged wife to see him in such helpless state.
He was a proud Ondo man and even in his dying period, he still maintained that defiant state of mind. But fair enough, he sent message to mum asking for forgiveness for all he had done to him. His friend duly delivered the message. Indeed we all held on to hope that dad would recover and reunite with his estranged wife and everything would be normal again. But it wasn’t going to be. Not long after, on that fateful morning of Jan 28 2000, dad gave up the ghost. News reached us an hour later and we wept. But the worst was yet to happen.
Dad was buried a month after his death. His siblings were very cooperative with my mum. Afterall they knew she was his wife. So they asked her to perform the customary rites of a widow by shaving her hair and staying indoors for 40days after the burial. After all the rites were performed, my dad’s relatives called a meeting and asked that the man known to them as dad’s lawyer to read out the will. Dad had left behind a significant number of properties and shares in top companies in the country. The lawyer came and read the will to the hearing of everyone present. Dad bequeathed most of his properties to his children. He only left a property in the city to his siblings and ofcourse his house in the village. All hell was let loose at the meeting. My dad’s siblings practically beat the lawyer to a pulp. He ran for his dear life. They turned to my brother, the eldest, and warned him sternly never to come near any of dad’s properties until they called for another meeting.
So that was actually the beginning of another beginning for mother as a widow. She had done a good job trying to take care of the six of us. My two eldest siblings had graduated from university but they couldn’t get a good job. They merely did menial jobs just to take care of their own immediate needs. I had just finished my secondary school and I had good grades from W.A.E.C but I didn’t bother to do University matriculation examination because there were no funds to go to school. Mum kept on going from daddy’s friends to his village elders in a bid to get justice for her and her children. Her efforts were fruitless. One of dad’s friends even wanted to have an affair with mum before listening to whatever she had to say. She therefore decided to seek for justice in court. All necessary suits were filed and our dad’s family were served court notice. Unfortunately on the day the hearing started, the lawyer who read dad’s will who was supposed to be in the witness box declined coming to court despite previous assurances that he would appear.
Mum’s case was thrown out even before it started. She only did traditional marriage with dad. They didn’t go to the registry so there was no document to legalise her marriage with dad. The only hope was the will but the lawyer was never to be seen again. The Judge surprisingly advised that we settled the case out of court. But my dad’s relatives concluded that since my Mum had taken the court option, the battle line had been drawn. They threatened to fight mum physically and spiritually. Mum retired into the normal concession – Let go and let God. But you see, that was never the case for mum. She hardly stopped thinking about all she had suffered. And Yes, she indeed suffered.
Dad was just a mere public servant who had the attention of his superiors as a bright Secretary in the 70s and 80s. My mum was a trader when they married and she was indeed very successful selling flour. Those were days when flour mills just came to Lagos and mum was lucky to get goods on credit from their warehouse. She always paid back and her credit capacity grew to the extent that she became one of the top distributors in Lagos island market. But you see, all she made in profit was saved in a joint account with dad. Dad on the other hand was a very bright thinker. He knew landed properties would always increase in value so he convinced mum that they use the money in the joint account to procure properties all over Lagos. Ofcourse mum obliged and she even worked harder to make more money. Dad was a snake. He bought all the properties in his name and he would only take mum to the site of the properties for confirmation or to clear any doubt.
By the time he would start building houses, he asked mum to lend some money from the bank to hasten the building projects. Mum agreed and when it seemed every thing was set in motion, Dad suddenly changed. He insisted mum was a witch due to his consultations with a spiritualist. That’s what led to separation. Dad played the con man. Mum defaulted in her loan repayment. Bank seized her own personal belongings like expensive jewelries, cars, cash at bank and whatever they could. News of her financial struggles reached her creditors at flour mills. They stopped giving her goods on credit. Mum was run to the ground. She left the Lagos island market out of shame to rebuild her life elsewhere.
The ghost of her life
So you could imagine the bitterness that engulfed at her when dad’s relatives laid hold to all dad had left behind. She couldn’t deal with it. She broke down. She became hypertensive. And to add, she was also tested to be diabetic. My dad’s relatives lived large on dad’s properties. Most of their children who were around my age went to UK to study due to rent gotten from dad’s properties alone. Whereas I couldn’t even go to university here in Nigeria due to lack of funds. I had to do menial jobs to sustain myself. Relief came soon as my elder siblings began to gain employment. Mum’s financial burden was relieved to a large extent. I gained admission too and did my best to graduate with a good grade.
Mum did her best for all of us. But you see, when it was time to enjoy the fruits of her labour, she became critically ill and died in 2013. At her burial, when I was asked to give my tribute to her, I declared that mum was already a widow before her husband died. Many didn’t understand what that meant though. Before she died, while on the sick bed I asked her what her regrets in life would be. She looked at me and said it was the fact that her children didn’t enjoy the fruits of her struggle. It was then I realised she was still hurting from all dad and his relatives had deprived her of. I took it upon myself to help her out of that bitterness as I showed her the bright side to life from her ordeal. Little did I know she wouldn’t survive the sickness. So even in my lonely moments the urge to still mourn my mum’s regrets fill me but I know better now.
That’s it, this is the story of Bami, a dad now. Which he said though I almost stopped half because of the pain, I am so relieved; apart from siblings we went through it. I never told anyone about this. As you can see, in the journey of widowhood as in women abuse; the children spend more time celebrating or struggling to see how to celebrate mum that they never pause to ask and seek to know the various things that made the journey treacherous; thus the vicious circle. She performed the burial rites but with the properties, the court threw it out by asking them to go settle out of the court because they did not do court registry. Bami your mom indeed got “Wounded before be Widowed” but remains Whole in you all’s love.
Being a mother is every woman’s dream, especially in our African culture in marriage. So when you start having them immediately, the tension of mother-in-law looking constantly at your stomach becomes something that you as a wife won’t worry about, especially if you are not their favourite choice. I remember a sister saying to me
“do you know how painful it is to see your menstrual cycle come at each month after all the prayers, medication, loving, sexing, faith and declaration? Do you know how as the year runs half way and nothing, your heart being to palpitate on the eyes and body gesture of your in-laws, especially your mother-in-law?
Well, I couldn’t answer these and so many other questions she asked. Though I could appreciate her pains and sympathized with her, yet could not say I felt her pain. The saying that says she who wears the shoe knows where it pinches most is so true, because truly one who has not been at that same position does not feel the pain as the victim.
So that bundle of joy, having been blessed with them, then came his death becomes a beautiful burden that we gladly carry even as a widow. The strength of every widow is her children yet they remain her biggest source of fear and big shame. Her fear in providing for them and shame of her inability to do the same. At his death, as these kids collect their father’s love and add it to that of their mother so do they reallocate all demands and responsibilities to her.
I remember in my early years when I have to walk away from the house to ease off from the pressure of their love and demand. Days when I can’t help but wait for them to go to school, church or visit as I sit back in the comfort of my lone room to brood my pains. Days when in shame, I try to make my kid(s) feel better knowing that I have vented my frustration and emotion on them.
So I understand clearly when Katie chatted me that late night complaining that she doesn’t know what is wrong with her, that she thinks she is losing it. Calling her, she told how she’s been beating her son so constantly that the boy sees her and runs into the room and that her heart is broken.
When Bola said that her son woke up and asked for bread and she gave him one at about 6am, only for the boy at about 9am to tell her “mom we haven’t eaten breakfast”
•I understand when the food they bought for the 14 days ordinarily should have lasted the month if they were running a normal life has run out and there’s no money to restock.
I know mom loves me
•I understand why she’s snapping out and nagging constantly. Why she’s arguing and shouting on the kids at the slightest questions talk less of mistakes.
•I understand why the kids are on their toes unduly too careful as the atmosphere in the house is a bit tense to put it mildly.
•I understand why she’s beating the son not because the boy is a bad boy or the daughter not because she’s not helping out but because the family is in a bad time.
•I understand she’s scolding or/and beating her kids not because she’s an abusive mother but because her emotion is highly abused
•I understand how she sits in darkness of her day praying, hanging on the hope that God’s angels are climbing into her dark pot to draw her out of her boiling point.
•I understand why she sits up in her bed at night confused about her emotions, as she does not know whether it’s the want and warmth of a hold she needs or the want of more food for the kids at that time; which is better?
•I understand why some will say food without a thought yet get that more food at such time yet unable to relax to sleep. These and so many of her struggles I understand very well.
Stay safe my sanity.
But what I don’t understand is when so many of us family, culture, religion, tradition, government and others pretend as if these does not matter or is not as serious to be a bother.
•I don’t understand stand while some parents are out in the streets in their estate jogging and exercising with their kids as they are all bloated out with so many leftover thrown in dustbin, yet has relative who are widows and their minds has not been attuned to reach out even when they are approach.
•I don’t understand when the culture in the authority of traditional leaders watches this woman being stripped naked by in-laws knowing that at all times, with such time as this coronavirus she is the soulprovider for her home.
•I don’t understand why government will continue to make widows issues a clause hidden under one issue, knowing the magnitude of its issues alone; as they at each political step uses it to gain some scores, knowing that just like the developed countries all is needed are policies and facilities to truly protect and empower her
•I don’t understand why religious groups cannot speak loudly on the kind of disenchantment widows are experiencing across culture to which participants are all Christians as the worst actions are experienced in the Southern part of our Nigeria where we are predominantly Christians.
The ‘I don’t’ understand list can go on and on, and you’ll ask what has that got to do with widows insanity the kids?
Well, If you did not steal from her in the name of your brother’s property.
If you did not take her land in the name of culture
If she had better access to build her finance
If she had facilities and grants for kids welfare
If she had the right solidarity from you,
She will at least be battling with her libido alone in this stay at home with basic necessity for the kids feeding and recreation to minimal, giving her and her kids less things to worry
Sarah in lagos is her father’s house today in the lock down with her kid, suffocating in her emotions as try to protect her kid and parents having being locked out of her house as in-laws sold her car and carted away plenty.
Angela is in her parents house with four kids at Onitsha in this stay at home to stay safe having buried the husband early this year recovery for the traumatic experiences of not just his death but their actions; in anticipation of next in-laws move having lost the first movement to take authority of late husband’s business barely a month ago.
The insanity of the widows sanity in this lockdown #StayAtHome #staysave #covid19 is a watch out for families, friends and society. Don’t forget her, reach out with gift of cash, food and words of encouragement. She needs it loads
To you dear widows, even this will pass. Refuse the negative ministration of the mind. Millions of people are facing even worse challenges. Have Hope for it is the ladder that faith uses to clime out of the darkness spot of today to a tomorrow that is only one that holds the change. Call a family, a friend, a neighbour even a foe. Tell it to someone. There’s an angel at each bend.
There’s no agony like bearing the agony of the untold story of Maya Angelou.
Raised by a widow
We often underplay the effect of widowhood as we forget the children who are raised under this family. I remember a post I saw on Facebook one day by a creature who feels because he has a tail in between his thighs so he has the audacity to insult the women and it said “never marry a lady raised by a single mom. They don’t value marriage”. I couldn’t help feeling insulted but that’s a discussion for another day.
I have had young men and women raised by a widow chat with me privately appreciating me for what I am doing; Linda a widow’s daughter in one of her Twitter DM said “I just want to say that I appreciate you being a voice to widows out there. It’s good to see someone finally speaking about the plights of widows and not just about asking for help but actually asking for a change in mindset and ideologies relating to widows”. Her message was powerful, “change, mindset and ideologies” very appropriate to my principal and Almanah Hope Foundation vision.
When Bola chatted again few days ago “Good evening ma, My name is Bola, I’m 24 years old, a student of Federal University Of Oye Ekiti, 400 level. Department of peace and conflict studies. I love your show so much. And also my mom, she is a Widow. We lost my dad 18years ago. But I so much I understand the emotional, psychological, financial stress etc which she bears and endure. What can I do to help her?
My heart caved in, for I felt a different weight of what these kids are also going through in their silence. The agony too they carry. I remember my four year daughter telling me a few months after her father’s death, practically begging “mommy please don’t let anything happen to you, I don’t want you to die; I don’t want to be an orphan”. I was shocked by her statement and understanding of the import of the word “orphan”. A fear looking into Bola’s question that she still carries even in her husband’s house.
I took a step further after telling her how great she’s been doing in keeping a level head and being responsible to tell me her innermost thoughts as regards her journey with mom this past 18 years; I wanted to relief her of the agony of untold story she must have bottled up and below is Bola’s article.
“From the beginning as a child I did not understand what it means to lose a father, but gradually I started getting the clearer picture that it involves my mum sharing the responsibility of two individuals, which was not supposed to be so. Widowhood of a mother shapes the children’s life drastically, because I learnt to be self independent at a very tender age. Sometimes I remember telling myself we are in this together. Widowhood to me as a child trained by a widow is Painful, Enduring and Stressful. To the widow and to us her children.
I would like to talk about these points. What do I mean by the word painful: The mental picture that she is going to be the only one to train, nurture, feed, discipline, share our sad and good memories together is an agony in itself. The pain of losing my father for me is there, but when I look at my mother the pain of been alone, most times frustrated because of finance getting bad, having a bad day from work, trying to pretend to be fine in the morning meanwhile wept throughout the night, the burden on her can’t be describe which we see even in all her effort to conceal it.
Sometimes I wonder why he died? Why does this one person have to carry this burden all alone? What can I do to help her? How has she been coping, especially her emotions? The pain of a child or children’s perspective of Widowhood to me is that I have no alternative like others, so I need to reduce her workload instead of being fragile as a young girl, I learnt to share in her pain by not contributing to it. The psychological, Emotional and physical pain she carries we often carry them because subconsciously you exists in fear.
I often can’t help feeling that if my dad was alive things would’ve be easier, better, and faster. At least I will have someone to share my darkest moment with. If mom does not work, dad will work but here it’s just mom, so I seal it for fear of adding more pain and stress. So I learnt to grow up myself, sort myself out because there is so much one individual can do and she has more than enough for to chew.
Imagine at the age of 13 to 18. When puberty stage set in, I immediately understood about it the moment she explained I could not mess up because I knew she would be disappointed. Enduring the disposition of widowhood as brought to my mum is a big one so could not add to it. Normally marriage should involve two coming together to take family responsibility in consideration of each other in love as they endure all things. But widowhood is Enduring it alone; from families issues, from false accusations, from indecent man looking for ways to have relations with her, Enduring the way society look at her as if she wanted that for herself, the way married women sometimes thinks she is interested in her husband or the husband thinks she’s interested in him because she is a widow, they see her a single lonely woman looking for companion at all time. Yet in it all, she does not give up on us. The insults she collects from the workplace and business places on account of her status, the bad and good times (hmmmm), the list is ending though hidden by her yet seen by us. Endurance I tell you ma, is the key word of widowhood in all aspects which we can’t though imagine enough yet knows she takes them back to back at all sides.
I feel jealous sometimes if I see my friends and their fathers the way they talk and relate to fatherly role, no one can be like my father to me; likewise to her no one can replace that void in her heart, (hmmm). Because of us she has endured most and is still Enduring more, all in the loneliness of her needs.
Parenting is stressful and at the end it is rewarding yet parenting involves two individuals; but widowhood is the responsibilities of two people now that of one individual, this is what is I see Stressful. Parenting that includes two people sometimes may not be successful, yet a woman carries it alone as she go extra miles for her children to be success further by fear as the pain of her children’s failure and society’s comments torments her because our society has a distinct ability of blaming women for kids that goes wrong; this is the part that keeps her in a devastated mood. With my mom, I see the stress of the journey on her and as a child being raised there, that stress of her robs into you. I immediately saw the need to learn most things faster than individuals that are my age because I need to lessen the burden for mom. Nature has inculcated that in us as her kids, we are quick to readjust our needs, wants and desires because she is doing it alone even as the desire remains underneath.
I remember vividly when I was unable to gain admission as soon as others, how she was worried about it; because she started feeling like she had failed, sometimes she would say and I quote “Me and your father wanted you to go to a higher institution” She struggled with this for so long and it was all so stressful for her and for me. In widowhood the family is constantly exposed to Physical , Emotional And Psychological pain because they feel scrutinised by public. Mom is over working herself for extra income to maintain and sustain us, kids are burdened with fear of asking for needs even at the basic necessity of life.
Even in her health, as with all issues she has no one to talk to about it because she feels it is too much for us. She most often ignores her physical appearance because she is tired and overwhelmed by stress of what we will eat, wear, what the future holds for us. She endures her pain in silence as she replays her well rehearsed tune “I am fine” with obvious sickness when asked.
Emotions, smile… My mum is a typical Nigerian woman when it comes to her emotions she hides it well, but sometimes speaks up. She has often wept bitterly about her situations which I know but I couldn’t understand much but getting a bit clearer. You know it can be stressful when you bottle up emotions because no one can understand or no one to listen. She takes them to her God, so she states at all times. What is she feeling? How she is feeling ? I can’t understand but can sometimes imagine.
Growing up to understand more things, this most times had led me to a state of frustration, aggression and depression. I wish dad was here to help her, to help us. Her Priorities on life changed because of widowhood, her desires and dreams altered. Psychologically it affects her mind and her wellbeing. Her thoughts are so divided between fear and shame. She is not like everybody, she does not think like everybody. The loneliness of mind is more stressful than anything, though it is not visible yet we can sense it.
Wow, the agony of an untold story. That’s the mind of a child who lost her dad as a 6 years girl now a 24 years old young adult. She was unguided by any question and you can see how deep and manipulated her life journey has been through her mother’s despite the mom’s conscious effort in protecting them; yet like a mirror it has reflected theirs.
Can we see how every action of widowhood affects her offspring?
Do you know that’s how every of these in its ’cause and effect’ principle affects the society, the global goals; it’s about crime, poverty, diseases, quality life, education etc?
Do you know that the African culture of patriarchal society is gradually wearing off and gradually leaning towards matriarchy?
When you ‘his family’ humiliate, abuse, Exploit and victimize a woman in widowhood and she runs to her family with her kids, where will their love and loyalty be?
Until widows and all issues become an integral part of all actions and discussion of gender equality there will be no equity in the equality.
Locked down this #covid19, x-raying down the journey as my society begins to experience pockets of violence with one called the “one million boys” ask from this young lady’s write up knowing that caught in the conspiracy of silence and secrecy approach to it’s issue, she has simply given a tip of the iceberg as more hideous thoughts and actions lies in between which even me still has a lot in my own skelton, the ripple effect of widowhood in our society.
Watch out for more insight from the eagle eyes of her child as we unveil the hood in widowhood.
I saw a post on Instagram that got me thinking of the effect of COVID19 on this two groups of women, wives and mothers and widows and mothers who though with great similarities has differences that can mitigate or aggravate the outcome if not “checkmated”
They’re 1st the wives and mothers, as seen on picture above. It stated the three state of possible outcomes with question; which group as a mother and wife will likely fall into at the end of this pandemic battle; Slim, Fat or Pregnant.
While I must state that none of the three is bad even if different from our desire, as the most important thing to the glory of God is that we all come out hale and hearty at the end, slim, fat or pregnant; the celebrations of life is more important.
Yes it is. Yet, it got me thinking about the widows and mothers. They’re women with their children in this same stay at home, stay safe. To them, they do not have the luxury of wanting to vote for any of the three slim, fat or pregnant as the dilemma in their struggle to feed the kids stuck at home is a battle of self mental torture. In all their struggle their outcome will dance between thin, depression, mental health and suicide. .
Yes, you read it right and God forbid but that’s reality. As they battle in their privacy the fear of lack as the kids look into their eyes hungry forcing hard to keep the tears away from them talk less of getting fat. A widow called, crying that haven’t run out of food she went to her kiosks to see what to do but was harassed by law enforcement even as she noticed the goods has started spoiling; she’s stock with confusion and hunger.
As they lock themselves away in privacy of the dark weeping afraid of the next day in their depressed state, slim will not be the portion of her body but thin. Yes, though it’s been proven depression makes some fat as they eat more but with no food to eat, they are unlikely to fall into fatness but more frustration
As they have no adult companion for burden sharing and the other room activities which medically has been proven to drastically slash stress level; they cannot talk of pregnancy. Remember that even the room for side chick and small chops as the case may be having been blocked not just by the wives but by coronavirus as not even the widow in her state is attuned to such consummation not to talk of the chairman; hence depression.
While suicide is not common in our clime but we all cannot beat our chest at the end of all these to say none actually went that route for even if we do, we will not ignore a mental health challenge that may likely spring up as aftermath.
These and many are heavy challenges to her. While most are daily income earners and others are not; they both depend on work for psychological and physiological needs. We must remember that the church which has been the only outlet for both her emotional and psychological needs, where she has developed a high spiritual connection that helps extinguish the heat of ALL her EMOTION has been shut down.
Now she’s locked alone in her house with her kids and because she is battling through this period as mommy that’s the daddy, she forgets herself unaware the damage that might be going on under.
Dear sisters and brothers, let’s be more concerned about others now more than ever before. Look out for women in widowhood, a whole lot of them are in an excruciating emotional struggle, send them love in cash and kind; send the food, recharge their data to keep them on line, call and chat them up. This is my good morning message today “Pls am a widow with kids and due to the lockdown we’re unable to work and the little food stuff we have at home is finished.I have nothing to feed my kids with this extension. Pls momma I need your assistance”; and this is a reality.
Dear sisters in widowhood, know that even this too will pass. Resist the seat of sorrow. Be positive. Feed the kids to live, spread their meals in tiny portions to meet up their regular demand. Create fun time with games, the local “ayo” game can be improvised with counters, stones and pebbles. Local scrabble for word formations. Reading competitions etc. Reach out to friends, reach to family and reach in to your strength. This too will pass but work to not pass with it.
United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres said it all “this is time for science and solidarity”; while the scientists are in the laboratory researching for a cure and vaccine, the medical personnel are in the hospital managing the patients, each of us can take up the solidarity. We should be reaching out to many with palliative support to minimise and alleviate hunger. Look out for them especially our widow sisters, I know many and can connect you to many genuinely in need.
End Every Widowhood rites that violates women’s dignity
After years of life struggle and experience as a young widow in a culture where you’re shauned and exploitated at each bend, as I became good referral point with people calling me to come help speak to newly bereaved widow; it done on me after 4 years on it’s increase that mentorship is a great resource I lacked in my early years little wonder I contemplated suicide and murder in my dark years.
With the creation of Almanah Hope Foundation and interaction with widows, it became obvious to me the reason for the continued downward transmission of most of these practices and abuses of women in widowhood. It is our silence and our secrecy which was born of our cultural presentation and attitude to widows. It has breed fear and shame on the widow and by it, the society made her voiceless. Now, In realisation, that giving her a voice is the key. And to do that effectively media is main tool and for it to efficient education must be goal.
Today 4 years down, we’re still fighting the brick wall of conspiracy of silence, pretence, inability or uncare taking place between culture, family, government, religion and the widow herself. As I often ask the question;
● Is it that we truly do not know what’s happening to widows across our culture yet we register everyday by the second new foundation of empowerment for widow?
● Is it that the traditional rulers will be killed by the gods if they outlaw these practices using letters, town crier, churches, village meetings to say; No, no more; let a woman bury her husband and leave her property for her & kids; boys or girls?
Is it that the families of these widows cannot mobilise or join their force and get government at all level to create and disseminate policies and information on the end of all widowhood rites and exploitations that violates women dignity?
Is it that we do not see young widows in early 20s rusting away as we preach holiness calling her Jesus husband without teaching our young one from Sunday school class about marriage, death and remarriage?
● Is it that they do not see and hear widows stories of being exploited and disenfranchised by in-laws who are all our church members to preach sternly and condemn outright the act from the altar as it becomes an elaborated topic in churches outline.
The ‘is it’ can go on as we expose these conspiracies, but because I/we’ve become a voice to get the voices that makes the change, I summary with a story to this picture. In #Iwd2019 widows day charity walk, we produce a trailer of our dream project (AWWA A WIDOW’S WINDOW AFRICA drama series of widows real life stories for education and enlightenment through media, documentary film ( watch at our YouTube Almanah Hope A Widow’s Windows Africa), I remember sharing with it a friend we all group up together, a ‘big man’ in our country. Despite the fact he watch a women tell her life ordeal; he called me to say to me and I quote “this wasn’t true, this exaggerated, it doesn’t happen anymore”. I was so furious, I felt insulted that he believes the widow was acting that out to gain sympathy.
Then at our charity walk at Awka Anambra State; we had a brief talk with people at the market square and a random selected 5 widows interviewed there at the market square had the same story. One above said she was strip off of everything as she has moved with her kids to her father’s house which is the next town. Like she said “Is that you’ve not heard my story, the story ‘wuruewu’ ; as others struggled to tell their of same horrendous experience. This is the very town of my dear friend. I took the clip of interview after the project and sent it to him and he NEVER made a comment till today. And I am sure he never gave it a second thought talk less of seeing how he can help using his position.
The reality is either he’s thinking that he knows his wife is immune with his wealth and class or he’s not dieing at least not now, it’s till he’s 100 years; so that’s the problem of us who’s husband isn’t in his category.
As we celebrate Easter and contain the #covid19 pandemic with so many struggling hard in supporting and soliciting to support widows, my question is what have you done to address the root issue of widowhood in your locality?
Think about it. As the “earth is shut for repair” according to my dear friend Dr Ngozi Onyia, plan to join root out her main issue of disenchantment once the repair is over and the earth reopened. Be an ear they can call and a voice that gives her the voice in your community. #village
The resurrection of Jesus Christ will usher in healing upon our world in Jesus name, Amen!
There’s no agony like bearing the agony of untold story Maya Angelou.
Women & Widowhood
She continued, as the struggle to find yourself in the midst of these practices continues, You find you will be needing a man full time because here in our culture there are some particles of Do’s and Don’ts without a man in your house you can’t do.
Here we continue the traditional way of building a new house leaving the dead his house. These materials nobody gives you even your child, the wife doesn’t allow her husband to help you build this house.
“utangangana peke yako mpaka useme noo”. (I tried getting the meaning but like she wrote; it’s complicated)
You can sometimes get a man who wants to stay with you, at long last he will not agree to help you change the house, as you remain there hanging with him yet hunting for another man to help you do this because the in-laws eyes are on you even while you’re sleeping. If you don’t change the house, you are chased out of that clan claiming you want the children of their son to die.
As the culture say you must not have a man in your house with your children whatever their age. It is a threat given to widows or their children will died. You have to find not just a man that will stay with you but will build another apartment you can both stay in your compound. Imagine this, often because it was you who went to look for him they treat you as they like and 88 percent of them behave the same.
Also when your son builts the first house, when he brings a wife home, when he goes to pay dowry, when your daughter is to get married, for any visitor to come for such occasions for your children and the rest, you must have a man in your house. All these happen to us
When your husband dies leaving you in their home. There comes a time you are to build your home, the man found (living in) will run away from you after hearing you want to build a home. ‘Man’ you start a fresh begging for women’s husbands to help you build your house, here you use your own money until you stand a home.
All of these I under went when I entered my widowhood. And all these make our ●society poor, ●poor health, ●lack of education, ●a lot of school dropouts, ●lot of early marrieges, ●lots of abortions, ●a lot of elicit brewers.
Young widows go through a lot of difficult activities to earn their living while their children compete with their mothers.
I am not ashamed of saying that all these silly acts has made our society full of ●infections as we pass it one to the other.
Yes, I say a big no to some of our widows who think that drug abuse is the way to relieve all these stresses, yet all of these I personally have undergone EXCEPT brewing, selling and drinking alcohol.
Despite all these challenges, I used to ask God to help me move on. To me it is only me and my God who know what I have gone through in my journey widowhood.
My advice to women is that when their husbands are still alive, let them talk about their wealths especially land issues. Their husbands should divide their lands according to the beneficiaries especially the communal one.
I lost my husband’s properties, I am a victim of gender based violence because my husband had a sudden death leaving me with a block of ancestral land to share with my in-laws which I lost all.
My advice to widows of any age is that, in our journey of life. Death is a must. It is either the man or the wife. One must die before the other. In between them, one must remain with the responsibilities of taking care of your children. It is not a joke, it is not a laughing matter. You must be a God fearing widow. I do discourage widows from listening to rumours. You can choose to have a man and anything you feel like as a widow since you are alone as long as you protect your children but you cannot manage taking care of your children and doing your own things like drinking alcohol, roaming about with different men coming back to your house both of you drunk. To me it is a strong NO in capital.
Singing strange songs where your children are(lol). Let us turn our eyes to God. He knew why He took our husbands and left us with these difficult tasks.
“una weza, don’t panic. You are not alone wherever you are, you and some other widows like me. We are sailing in one boat even though we don’t know each other. Sometimes I hear from media that that a widow from some place is mudered by the inheritor, or a widow commit suicide because she is deafeted by this journey of life of widowhood. It is a stumbling and falling journey of life. But God for us all but mostly widows and orphans who fear God.
During all these tough moments we undergoes, getting a traditional leader who can just come out and volunteer to take an action to alleviate these pain is hard and if I am to count them they may be 1 in 100 traditional leaders who may empathize with a widow and defend her. The same goes to the spiritual leaders because the protocol they follow while solving these issues for widows don’t favour our side especially land conflicts.
And on the action our Government are taking to help a widow achieve her goal. I believe it is by helping her to solve her problems with policies and protection so that she can boldly chase her perpetrators.
Hhhmm. In the luo tribes of kenya, A woman especially A widow is to be seen in the community but not to be heard
Thank you mum, lala salama
Patrisiah from Nyanza province Kenya
The reality is this, we all see what she’s state happening, while some play apathy, others pulls sympathy putting a blind eye to the needful. She’s been widowed, someone’s turn it must be. Who? I don’t know.
There’s no agony like bearing the agony of untold story Maya Angelou.
As widows I don’t know chat me up on social media to appreciate me. And as they began telling me their stories, I realised truly that Maya Angelou saying. These untold stories are indeed an agony we still carry even when people think we’ve healed with years. It’s in us all. I felt lighter when I opened my mouth to speak on the abuses of the journey comes from the culture, family, social, religious and occupational sector. The weight of the loss got lesser and the pain of the shame disappeared. I sometimes have my sympathy on the abusers considering the saying that says silence is acceptance. So for all not to justify their acts with ignorance, I begin to tell these untold stories across cultures on widowhood as I hear it. With permission of the widows I publish her picture or anonymous I use a graphic.
The Women & Widowhood
Patrisiah from Nyanza province Kenya
My husband died 19th october 1995. He suddenly started complaining of headache and fever one night and he drank a pain-killer. Because we had no money to hire a taxi to rush us to the hospital and he was getting more ill the next day, I had to use the public bus to the hospital, unfortunately he died before we could reach the hospital. Keeping the body in the mortuary, I went home.
That was the beginning of trauma.
When I got home and narrated my ordeal, everyone in his family became aggressive, asking me questions one after the other on the cause of the death. I tried to explain how it happened but no one was listening to me as they continued their complaints. Why didn’t I let them know that their man was sick that night? They actually concluded in their arguments with the accusation that it was only me who knew the cause of his sudden death.
But in my clan even if the husband has been bedridden, the relatives must look for something to link you up with the death of the husband .
As expected the relatives especially in-laws start saying all manner of things against me. These accusations are what usually lead to the rejection of widows by everybody in the society.
For me, it all starts from that day the husband dies. His body stayed about 2 weeks before burial. During these days, nobody shares anything with you. You see a group of two and more, to confirm you’re either the subject of discussion or an object to avoid, if you try to reach them, they immediately disperse. You are automatically alienated as I look on with pain all through the period of burial arrangements. That’s the start of journey of LONELINESS and EMMOTIONAL TORTURE.
During my husband’s burial I was seriously harassed and abused. A month after his burial one of my in-laws beat me upon and sent me out of their home.
Mind you some widows get chased away after a short period of time as they take the properties left by the husband. You remain with nothing including lands.
As a widow you must do what they want you to or else they chase you away from their family.
Four days after burial an old woman came to my house as early as 6 am, before that they had sent the news of the activity of that day which is shaving the hair plus your children. This is done with razor blade,water and soap.
Until all the activities are performed, you don’t leave your compound to go out or meet with any woman of a young age. You immediately become alienated by friends.
After shaving your hair and that of your children’s, you are to stay within your compound until the new hair grows, only then are you free to walk around.
After all these activities, before you are allowed to go back to your normal activities, you will be told that since you have children, you will NEVER have any sexual relationship outside your family. This message is passed strongly with instruction that all your children will die once you do that. We are usually very afraid when we hear this as such are caught in the trap of abuse.
Traditionally you are the one to talk to the man to come to you and “inherit you”, because inheritance is a must in this side of our culture. When you feel like having another man, you can go to one of the widows and ask her to help you go talk to a man you have feelings for.
But you must first go and tell one of your in-laws to be one. The man can either agree or disagree. Often, a man can make mockery of you that he agrees but goes to tell the wife to refuse on his behalf because the wife must agree too. Sometimes the man might want you but the wife disagrees.
There must be in a consensus to the love affair by both parties (husband and wife)
It can be scary. Because of this, often most women on seeing you speak to her husband or the husband of her friend, be sure you will be given the insult of your life with questions as; did you kill your husband for mine?
We live an emotional painful life here. During this period, no man can come to your house. Even widows themselves live in fear of other women with their husbands as your simplest hello can bring the most embarrassing situation from other women. The general public attitude is poor as people in their actions humiliate widows as they go through all forms of mistreatment.
Yes, all this still happens, shaving a widow’s hair plus her children is still happening. Late last year 2019 and this January 2020 it happened to 2 young widows of my clan
In all these you continue hunting for the man that will stay with you after being a widow in the kindred.
When you fail to get that one you like, this the time you will pick any man you meet in order to release you from these dangerous signs that have been stated if you step out of your clan.
All these happen because there is none of your in-laws who is ready to break these chains of traditional belief and if, in any case you are lucky get one of your in-laws who volunteer to break these chains. Be assured you’ve applied for gossip and war from the wife.
But all I can say is that they are refusing to do these things because of greediness and if you avoid all these and bring a man from outside, your in-laws then come after you. As they complain and accuse you of bringing in someone else to come and eat their son’s wealths. It is a complicated life;
“you said right, it’s way too complicated and callous”.
After getting a man, to bring him to your house, there are a lot of things you are to do. The first night you’ll be alone with him forcing your children to spend the night away from home. By the next day you will be a strange woman in this community because that “mama mzee” the old woman, will come again and repeat those rites that she did on you on the fourth day after the burial date and after that the man can become your live-in lover.
And it is you that will take the man back to their home. On that day you’ll meet another old woman waiting for you with a traditional herb to pour in the food that his wife had cooked for you. The wife again can wait for you in a nice manner as you think all is good since it’s the “our culture” but on reaching there she’ll give you the beating of your life as she ask you; did you killed your husband inorder to take hers? Explain why and how did you start after completing this course and when you started with an emotional life that “uta juta”. By the time all these are over you have lost all yourself esteem.
As a teenager, getting married 1984 at 17 after secondary education. A year later, 1985 with a daughter & pregnancy I went back to school for an NCE.
Graduating at 21+ with 2 kids, I joined the Nigeria Police Education Unit as hubby a police officer went back to school with life processing itself.
How was I to know that trip to the village on Mar 5th 1994 will bring an abrupt change to my life?
Today in history 26 years ago, March 8th 1994; came that news that confused my dream, altered my life plan and exposed me to the most excruciating painful experiences of my life. His accident, his death.
The 6 weeks burial activities and rites was a tip of the iceberg as the real ordeal began when I returned to my base, with an ejection letter from the Nigerian police already waiting for my return. I had no money of any support & without his death benefit to plan another accommodation
While going round begging not to be thrown out as officers struggle for my accommodation, getting into the school as a teacher in one of their schools that day of June 1994. I saw my suspension letter without pay pasted on the SCHOOL NOTICE BOARD. My offence? I don’t know because I have no copies of letters of warnings or queries of gross misconduct of public office that can result to it or a copy of the suspension letter to see the offence; and I ask isn’t such a letter a private property? Why was it paste publicly, you ask? I still ask the same today.
Under 3 months of my life I became a widow, homeless and jobless with 4 kids between ages of 8+ and 4.
Yes, I did stretched out to the authorities for compassion, but was given one choice where that can be found; #theotherroom.
When I say widowhood remains the most hidden and veiled areas of violations of human rights. It’s not for propaganda. The ripple effect of widowhood from our cultural practices and rites has developed a systematic abuse, manipulation and exploitation.
Though my story has changed as my misery has become my mission but not much has changed in our society as you still hear worst stories. #awidowswindow
I need help for the legislative arm of government to help pass the “Widows Protection Bill” which I have submitted through Hon Adejoro Adeogun in the Federal House Abuja; where are the women and #heforshe? Come and help empower widows for real.
I need corporate sponsorship of A Widow’s Windows the 1st family radio talk show with widows on @wfm917 and a spread of it to our states.
I have over 60 episodes scripted life stories of widows for drama that will co opt doc drama and will continue to script and seek for partnership.
Our silence had remained the veil on widowhood and through almanah hope A Widow’s Window we are breaking the culture of silence and secrecy approach to it’s issue using media and education.
From stories we recieve women in widowhood are still being omitted, excluded, shauned, stigmatized and made invisible as men including women disenfranchise and abuse them. If we don’t use media, education and entertainment to bring to light what’s happening under that “hood” of a widow for preventive empowerment, many will continue to make widowhood a tool for political propaganda, merchandise and philanthropic grandiosity.
With my personal experiences and as a professional teacher, exposure of this hideous act will bring prevention and reduce further abuses, exploitation and manipulation experienced even in the empowerment programme that abound.
Women, as we celebrate #IWD2020 today as Her Excellency Ekiti state Bisi Adeleye-Fayemi asked “where is your wrapper”. What are you doing to build her, do you support or put a blind eye as your husband, brother and sons humiliate and exploit her at his death and go out to advocate for gender equality?
Until widows and her issues becomes an integral part of all actions and discussion of gender equality there will be no equity in the equality.
Until we build a synergistic support and concern to standby for another, then can we take full possession of our space in unison for a great generation equality.
A Widow's Window 