Picking up the pieces after the ultimate

Monica with employees at the Romeo’s Men’s Parlour on Kiambu Road. PHOTO | NATION 

In Summary

• It all came crashing down in November 2012 when my children and I woke up to find that my husband had disappeared in the wee hours of the morning as we slept. I didn’t know why he left; we hadn’t had a fight in a while. In fact, I thought we were happy.
• I had resigned from my job as country programme manager for a refugee programme to fulfil a long-held dream of studying a degree in communication. My husband was the one who had encouraged me to quit my job and follow my dreams… and then he had up and disappeared like a thief in the night.
• Two months later, we discovered through wedding photos posted on WhatsApp and Facebook that he had married someone else less than a week after his disappearance. Not long thereafter, my son showed me a photo someone had sent him on his phone, of his father looking deliriously happy holding a newborn baby girl.

“When fitness enthusiasts talk of ‘a total lifestyle change’, their faces are always beaming. It’s easy to resonate with the good feelings that their invigorated smiles show.

I too had a total lifestyle change – except that mine, unlike theirs, was filled with rage, anguish and betrayal.

“I met and fell for my husband and we were married in April 1999. Ours was a civil ceremony given his Muslim background and I, a Christian. He had two children from a previous marriage, and I had one that I had been raising as a single mother. A year later, we were blessed with a son.

Ours was the perfect Brady Bunch or so it seemed.

It all came crashing down in November 2012 when my children and I woke up to find that my husband had disappeared in the wee hours of the morning as we slept. I didn’t know why he left; we hadn’t had a fight in a while. In fact, I thought we were happy. When I contacted him seeking answers, he didn’t answer my calls. I went into a frenzy, destroying whatever reminder there was of him.

HUGE BILLS

“He had left us with huge financial debts at my son’s school and (accrued) from security, electricity and shopping bills. A sense of shame, humiliation and anger plagued me, eating me to a point of using sleeping pills to get rest. How could I allow this to happen to me?

“Two months later, we discovered through wedding photos posted on WhatsApp and Facebook that he had married someone else less than a week after his disappearance. Not long thereafter, my son showed me a photo someone had sent him on his phone, of his father looking deliriously happy holding a newborn baby girl.

“As all this drama was unfolding in my life, I was in my second year of study at St Paul’s University, whilst my then one-year-old grooming business for men was still in its infancy.  I had resigned from my job as country programme manager for a refugee programme to fulfil a long-held dream of studying a degree in communication. My husband was the one who had encouraged me to quit my job and follow my dreams… and then he had up and disappeared like a thief in the night.

“Now here I was with no steady income and fees for both my son and I, a major item on the budget, along with our other day-to-day needs. Misery loves company and mine came in form of my start-up business that was now struggling to stay afloat. 

The business, Romeo’s Men’s Parlour along Kiambu Road was just picking up and despite being popular with men from the affluent neighbourhoods who cared about their looks, the high rent was killing it.

My first thought was to sell whatever I could, including my business, put my studies on hold and concentrate on my son’s financial and emotional needs.

But my four sisters and best maid, a friend I have known for more than two decades, stood with me. My older sister would hear none of my quitting school talk. She paid my school fees for that semester and insisted I get back to attending lectures.

“The HOD at the university, with whom I shared my story, was also against quitting, explaining that since school fees had been paid, I shouldn’t quit as my family was supportive. When things got too tight, my sisters took care of everything—house needs, transport and pocket money— and encouraged me to think of what will happen to my kids if I gave up. We also enrolled my son for counselling.

“It was at his counselling sessions that I learnt that I was also psychologically traumatised. I was operating like a zombie – leaning on prayers and sleeping pills in equal measure. The same counsellor helped me deal with my pain, sense of guilt and bitterness. ’You should not blame yourself for the turn of events. Your psychologically recovery is very important for your son’s healing,’ he always used to say.  At the church where I was a praise and worship leader, my pastors were also very supportive.

“In terms of debt, I would say it was simply divine intervention. When I went to school, for example, and explained my situation, they allowed me to start a clean file for my son and decided to litigate to recover the arrears from my ex.  The security company and the supermarket did the same thing.

“Our landlord couldn’t afford such indulgence however, and this left us between a rock and a hard place. The counsellor had advised that I try to maintain some sense of stability for my son and so we couldn’t move. In the end, I decided to make a few adjustments, like doing away with the gardener and taking my son to boarding school to cut expenses on daily fuel and car running expenses as well as day school related costs.

DOWN SIZING

“But while my friends and family didn’t desert me, good life, fun, new clothes and new shoes did. Eating out and movie nights had to go too. I rediscovered the convenience of cooking in bulk and freezing food and the joys of watching Sh50 movies at home. Being a student turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

It meant I could wear jeans daily and either way, I had no social life that required new clothes. I had also acquired an extensive wardrobe during my days working for an international refugee organisation.

“Mid last year while on my way to cash my retirement benefit from my former employer prematurely so as to ease the burden on my sisters, my husband called me and said he wanted to meet his son. He didn’t apologise to me though. Surprisingly, I was not angry on the  phone and we didn’t argue. The counselling, it seemed, was healing my pain.

“My former employer agreed to fast-track the processing of my retirement benefits, money that paid my school fees for the subsequent semester, my son’s fees at the new boarding school and also covered our day to day needs with my daughter, who had just graduated from university.

“It was also sheer luck that I also found a buyer for a nine-acre piece of land that I had bought in Kitengela while still working. Using that money, I bought a small apartment in Limuru where my children and I have lived since January. I also saved some proceeds and reinvested in my business.

“Despite the personal and family issues that were tearing me apart I had built up a steady clientele base and this kept the business afloat. I hadn’t broken even yet though nowadays I feel the business did not enjoy the expected growth because I had been distracted by my challenges. I have since transfered it to Ruaka where rent is more affordable, and it’s now picking up.

“My life is back on its feet now and I can afford to smile about a brighter future. This was affirmed when I graduated with a First Class Honours at St Paul’s University in October. I now realise my studies were like therapy, which did not allow me a moment of self-pity or depression.  The First Class Honours is a testimony this.”