By Calister Bonareri 

Nairobi, Kenya: The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees indicates that Gender-based violence (GBV) as a severe violation of human rights and a life-threatening health and protection issue. One in three women will experience sexual or physical violence in their lifetime.

Gender-based violence can include sexual, physical, mental, and economic harm inflicted in public or private. It also includes threats of violence, coercion, and manipulation. GBV can take many forms, such as intimate partner violence, sexual violence, child marriage, female genital mutilation, and so-called ‘honor crimes.’

When I asked Kate if she would be open to sharing her story with my audience, she quickly agreed it caught me by surprise. She was quick to offer an interview the next day.

‘By the way, I might be invited for a job interview at Java House next! Please pray for me,’ she said at the end of the call.

When we sat down for the interview, she seemed nervous, unsure if she was ready to share her story. She pauses for a second, sighs, and then says, “Let’s begin. Am ready.”

Tell me about your childhood.

I grew up in Riruta, a middle-income estate in Nairobi. I also went to school in Riruta primary school, a government school. I was an only child and had no relationship with my dad, so I lived with my mom. Life was good, my mom didn’t earn a lot of money, but she was able to provide our basic needs. When I turned seven, she fell ill and died, leaving me under the care of my grandmother.

 I was so heartbroken.

Life became so difficult since my grandmother was a single mom of five. The school often sent me home for upkeep money, which was ksh.120 back then. I thank God for my class teacher Mrs. Momanyi; I still remember her. She made sure I finished primary school. When the school sent other kids home for school fees, she would hide me so the school wouldn’t send me home. 

She pauses again, her eyes slightly distant; she becomes lost in her thoughts, showing a sense of deep introspection and reflection. 

I stayed home for two years after completing my KCPE because my grandmother couldn’t afford my secondary education. When I joined form one, I met a guardian angel who paid my school fees for four years. 

A slight blush now appears on her cheeks, and I notice a radiance to her spotless yellow skin that suggests a sense of inner peace and gratitude. She nods and puts one hand over her heart.

Kate posing for a photo after the interview with Talkafrica/ Calister Bonareri.

How was life after high school?

I was lucky enough to get an opportunity to join Java House as a trainee waitress. I moved into my tiny house because now I could afford to pay my rent, provide for my basic needs, and send some money to my grandmother. Around this time, I was dating the father of my two boys. My boyfriend was the only person I was close to, so I agreed when he suggested we move in together. He moved into my house, and shortly after, I got pregnant with my firstborn son. We were so happy and in love. He was my first love and high school sweetheart.

She laughs. Her laughter was tinged with a sense of irony as if recognizing the naivety of her earlier self.

When did things change in your marriage?

When my son turned one, my then husband, traveled for work in the Middle East. He was now earning a lot of money and providing for us. He was a different person when he came back three years later. I suppose it’s true that ‘money changes people.’

He became distant and started cheating. I assumed it was because he was young and would outgrow this behavior. I packed and left several times, but he would beg me to return with promises that he had changed, and I believed him each time.

When was the first time he became violent?

He always forbids me from hanging out with my friends. He liked isolating me from my friends and family, including my aunties and uncles, who I grew up with as sisters and brothers. He wanted me to stop working and stay home, which I refused. He explained, ‘ As a wife, you should leave work and come straight home.’ Even though I would communicate my whereabouts, he still forbade it.

He started spending the night outside without any explanation. One day I went to a Java staff party. I was now a head waiter, promoted over the years due to my good performance. I communicated it to him and told him what time I’d be back. I came home an hour late, and he was already home. He didn’t wait for an explanation; he started beating me up. 

He apologized all night and said he had never hit a woman and would never do it again. The beatings, however, became a routine for another five years. 

What was it like living in a violent environment?

It was so stressful. I couldn’t conceive. I spent so much of my money secretly trying to solve infertility so I could give my husband another child, hoping it would end the abuse. At this point, I had become a manager at Java. The doctor advised me to avoid stress and eat well so my body could function properly. To my surprise, it worked.

How did you manage to avoid the stress while in the marriage?

I accepted that my husband would never change. I learned he was living with an older rich woman who was unknowingly buying him expensive cars and financing our lifestyle. He had told her that I was his baby mama. He convinced me to quit my job at Java so we could start our business.

We opened a pork joint, liquor store, and car wash in Ruaka. I invested my end-of-service benefits in that business. The plan was for me to run the pork place and him the other companies. At this point, we also had three matatus, of which I had bought the first matatu with a loan while at Java. He was a good businessman, so I used to trust him with the money, and he wouldn’t require my name to be in any of the ownership documents.

After quitting, I realized he didn’t want me to run our business. I learned from a mutual friend that another woman was running the company, and he was also living with her. When I was seven months pregnant, I knew the other woman was pregnant with my husband’s child. At this time, he had begged me to move back after one of his usual violent episodes. So I moved back because I was already pregnant, and he had sworn that he had left all those women.

When did you decide enough was enough?

Over time, I started working on myself. I started showing myself a lot of love and doing things that would make me happy. So I became confident that I was not the problem and that my husband was. I stopped trying to change him and put all my energy into developing my self-worth. So when he finally hit me again, I walked out and never returned. This time I was contented that I have left that life behind.

What about your children?

When I left, he refused to give me back my children. The youngest is three, and the oldest is thirteen. A friend is currently hosting me. My oldest son is in boarding school, and the youngest is living with my sister-in-law. 

It’s been the most heartbreaking five months for me, because I’ve always lived with my children. I am grateful that my sister-in-law is my friend, so I know if my children are well cared for. I visit my youngest three times a week. He misses home. Every time I visit, he says ‘ mummy home’.

I am looking for work now to have a source of income. I will look for a house, and then I can live with my children. I have nothing. My husband sold our matatus, and the businesses in Ruaka failed, so I am back to the drawing board.

What would you advise people in abusive relationships?

Leave the first time it happens. I left because I want my children to experience their mother being treated well by someone. I have two boys; I don’t want them to grow up thinking it’s okay to abuse a woman. Leave for the sake of your children’s mental health. 

I am struggling right now, but it’s part of the process. I know better now, and I will never allow a man to abuse me emotionally, physically, or psychologically again. I am enough.

She returns to her joyful spirits as she hurries to meet a friend who has been calling during the interview. She reminds me to pray that her former boss calls her for an interview at Java House. She expresses her love for working at Java and her passion for customer service. 

‘Waah! How will I explain the four-year gap in my resume when they ask?’ she seems somewhat confused, maybe sad or concerned.

‘Kate you were fighting for your life. Explain how good you are at the job as best as you can. But also, you can tell the truth.’  I answered her in my head.

I am pretty sure Human Resource professionals would disagree with my advice…but then again, is it career suicide for a woman to quit her job to ‘save’ her marriage to raise her children or to be a ‘good wife’.