Musings at her husband's funeral ...

“What on earth am I going to do now? I really shouldn’t have quit my job. But I didn’t need to work, Jim was making more money than we needed and my income would have contributed very little to the household.  Or maybe I should have concentrated on getting to know how the business worked or better yet started a business of my own, but Jim always said I should concentrate on taking care of the children and our home. In retrospect the very least I could have done in these ten years was obtain a drivers licence.  But again it was Jim who insisted that he be the one to drive me and the children everywhere we needed to go. Now look at me being chauffeured to my husband’s funeral by babamnini Francis and babamkuru John; who both look all too excited to be driving their dead brother’s cars, I hope they know that as soon as the funeral is over I am taking back the cars. Never mind that I can’t drive. Maybe I’ll sell them or hire a driver. Hehehe hire a driver, how on earth will I pay him? Forgive me, my mind hasn’t settled into what has just happened.

I know that the rentals from the houses will be enough to cover day to day expenses but one of the gardeners will definitely have to go, maybe even one of the maids as well. And the children?  It would be so sad if their lives had to change because their father was now late. What if I transferred them from private to government school? Jim would turn in his grave. He always wanted the best for them. Maybe babamkuru John will assist with some of the school fees. On second thoughts there is no way he can afford to, he was always borrowing money from Jim and never paying it back. Besides look at his wife’s weave, is well past its best before date. I’ll probably be able to plan better after the meeting with the lawyer, at least then I’ll have a clearer picture of Jim’s financial position, or was it now my financial position.

Oh Jim, you could have picked a better time to die. You could have at least waited until your children had finished school.

Jim… initially it hadn’t been about love, not at all. It had been about opportunity and strategic thinking. Jim was able to provide the type of lifestyle that I wanted. He was a fat unattractive man, very fat and very unattractive but also very wealth. He wasn’t too hard to win over, not at all. A little pampering here, a little ego brushing there, a lot of fascination here and a little respect there and he fell for me hook line and sinker. I also think he never dreamed of end up with a woman as beautiful as me, he was probably more afraid of losing me than I was of losing him. Love did come eventually. Jim was a good husband. He was also a great father. He was very gentle, stern but soft spoken.  He was a provider and a protector. He took much of the load of life of my shoulders. He wouldn’t let me worry about a thing. He hit me once though, the day I threw away cooked food his mother had brought from the village. I didn’t trust her and I still don’t. I learnt the hard way that no matter how bad your relationship with your mother in law is, you never tell a man that you think that is mother is a witch. I never insulted his relatives ever again after that beating. On the plus side, he felt so bad about it that we went to Zanzibar for a holiday.  

My poor children, they are so young. They won’t remember him much. It’s a pity I’ll have to maintain ties with his family for their sakes. I would be unfair to deprive them of their relations. They never liked me, I never liked them either. His sister always complaining that I didn’t respect her, his mother complaining about how I raised MY children, his brothers complaining about how I spent his money, his aunts complaining about how I dressed. I didn’t pay them much attention though, I wasn’t there for them, I had one husband. I know that even today at the funeral, in between their fake wailing and crocodile tears they are finding time to gossip about me. Shame on them.

Look at me now, a 32 year old widowed mother of two. Would I get married again? Probably. But who would take me and two little ones. Well, that Mr Sona from the gym has always seemed interested. Maybe I’ll ignore him for another month or two, while I mourn, them respond to his advances.

With that thought the car came to a halt at the cemetery., the time had come for her to say her final goodbyes. The tears started gushing out. This time she wasn’t crying for him, she was crying for herself and her children…