MY STORY: Grieving is hard for widowers

2015 was set to be a good year for David Kariuki and his wife Betty Wekesa but she died of a heart attack just before they could welcome their triplets to the world. The babies also died in her womb. PHOTO| COURTESY

What you need to know:

  • Men are encouraged to keep emotional displays to themselves, so how does a pained widower express his sadness?
  • David Kariuki, who has been there, tells Joan Thatiah about grieving the loss of his wife Betty.

2015 was set to be a good year for David Kariuki and his wife Betty Wekesa. Finally, after eight years of marriage, they were going to have children. Betty was 36 weeks pregnant with triplets; her pregnancy had been pleasantly received, having conceived on the fourth try after three emotionally and financially draining but unsuccessful rounds of in vitro fertilisation (IVF).

“We felt that God had been gracious. We had been trying for children for eight years and we were getting three at once. We were looking forward to the due date only a month away. All our dreams were coming true.”

Then, on January 8 to 9, the worst came to pass. The day started off with visitors who they entertained until later in the evening. They went to bed around 11pm. Then, at 1am, Betty woke up panting for breath.

“I got a glass of water for her which she vomited. It had been an easy pregnancy and the sudden turn of events was alarming. I called her doctor who ordered that she be dashed to the hospital. I then called an ambulance, and a neighbour who began performing CPR on her,” he recalls.

By the time the ambulance got there 15 minutes later, his wife was already foaming at the mouth and the nose. On the way to Mater Misericordiae Hospital, they lost her pulse. At the hospital, both she and the three children she was carrying were pronounced dead. She died of a heart attack.

“I later learnt that when a pregnant woman dies, there is a seven-minute window during which the child she is carrying can be saved. We did not have that,” he says.

“I can’t describe how it feels to lose your wife and all three children in one blow,” he says. His eyes are fixed on one spot on the wall.

STARTING A NEW LIFE

Everything happened very fast after that. Friends and family trooped into their home to offer their condolences. Some brought food stuff, told him to be strong, or shared their own experiences with loss.

“It will get better, mwanaume ni kujikaza,” he heard over and over from well-meaning friends and family. No one, however, told him how to heal.

In about a week, the funeral was held and everyone went back to their lives – except David. “We had lived together for eight years. We had our daily routines. We had our Sunday routine. We would sleep in and then go for late Sunday service. Suddenly, I was all alone. The first four Sundays, I couldn’t even start the car to go to church. It was all so overwhelming.”

The pain from the fresh memories and the happy plans that had been abruptly cut short brought him into a new territory. He was riding a myriad of emotions that he just did not know how to deal with. “How should I deal with all these emotions? Should I cry in public? Can I call a friend and unburden my heart? Should I carry this very heavy load alone?” he wondered. He didn’t know any widower he could go to for some hand holding. Lost, he sought the services of a counsellor.

“Talking about what I was feeling helped. The counsellor listened patiently and offered grounded advice.” Six months later, still struggling with his grief, he sought the services of yet another counsellor to get a different perspective.

SOMETHING NEEDS TO BE DONE

Grieving is a process. There are different stages of it, and different ways of dealing with each stage. Even with professional help, David still felt a need to make contact with someone who had walked in his shoes. So he began looking through his circles for widowers. He found three of them.

“I found three men and we formed a WhatsApp group where we regularly check on each other and share our journeys to healing.” They also have one-on-one meetings to talk about the challenges that each of them is facing. These men, he says, have been a great resource for his emotional wellbeing.

“Now that I have dealt with most of the emotions, I can talk about my experience. Something needs to be done to support widowers,” he says.

“When you lose your wife, people come (to visit you) but there is rarely emotional help. Our society expects an African man to be strong, to put on a brave face. Those around you assume that you are okay or that you know what to do and this isn’t the case. There are still many issues that a man needs guidance in. Men suffer a lot emotionally,” he says.