I hope you will learn from my mistakes

PHOTO | FILE Caroline Bongo, her husband George and their daughters.  NATION MEDIA GROUP

By KINUTHIA MBURU kinuthiamburu@gmail.com, June 19  2013

 

In Summary

• After surviving an abusive relationship, Caroline Bongo talks about the mistakes she made, and finding true love second time round

Caroline Nkirote–Bongo, 36, comes across as a self-assured and responsible woman. And she is. But this was far from the case six years ago.

Then, she was in an abusive relationship, living with a man who had no qualms about calling her names or beating her up. She knew she should have packed up and left before he did more than take away her self-esteem or give her a few bruises, but she hang on for six painful years.

She says that the only good thing that emerged from the relationship was her two older daughters, Kaylene and Melody. Caroline, who lives and works in Kigali, Rwanda, opens up about the wrong decisions she made while in this toxic relationship, and the lessons she learnt.

She shared her story with us from her home.

“I was born in Mboroga, a small village at the foot of Mount Kenya in Meru, in a family of three brothers and my younger sister and I. I am the first born. My father, John Muriithi, was a land surveyor with the government, while my mother, Eunice Muriithi, was a secondary school teacher. My parents were staunch Christians, therefore it was no surprise when I became a born-again Christian when I celebrated my twelfth birthday. My parents worked hard to provide everything that we needed and, according to village standards, we were fairly well off.

As I grew up, though, I started to disappoint my mother repeatedly. It began with small careless incidents like letting the food burn or leaving my younger siblings on their own when I, as the oldest one, should have been looking after them.

In 1990, I joined secondary school after scoring 452 points out of 700. In class, I was known for my lack of concentration, but I somehow managed to score a good enough grade to get me into Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture and Technology, (JKUAT), where I graduated with a BSc in Horticulture in 1999.

Fall from grace

My downfall began shortly after graduating when I got a job in Timau as an irrigation supervisor at a horticultural company. I earned Sh4,500. The money was enough only for house rent and bus fare, but thankfully, my parents offered to cater for other needs such as clothes.

Instead of demotivating me, my meagre pay encouraged me to work harder. I threw myself into work, from Monday to Sunday. Church became foreign to me. Previously, I reserved time for daily Bible studies but then, my Bible speedily collected dust.

My circle of friends changed too. Back at the university, I only had born-again friends. In fact, our only greetings were “Bwana Asifiwe — Praise the Lord.” The simple greeting “Hi” was too worldly for us.

At my new workplace, though, dirty talk and insults were quite common. Initially, I would wince, but with time, I too began to speak like everybody else. I reasoned that college life was too controlled an environment, and there was no way anyone could live a straight Christian life in the real world. This was the real world.

It is around this time that I met *Jack. He seemed sober, mature, and reasonable. He was also a quiet and polite man. Within a short time, our friendship developed into a relationship. However, I noticed that he liked lying and would lie even when there was no need to. But I was not overly bothered by this. I told myself, “Look, no one is perfect.”

Two months into the relationship, I missed my period. I told Jack and the following day, he took me to a doctor who did a pregnancy test. It was positive; I was pregnant. Jack looked shocked. I remember he looked at me and asked, “What will we do now?”

I suggested an abortion and he jumped at the idea. We discussed it with the doctor and he agreed to carry out the procedure. The shame of bearing a child out of wedlock would be too much to handle. What would my parents say? What would old friends who still thought I was a good Christian say? There was no way I could keep the baby.

Deep inside though, I still felt as though I was committing a crime. Just before I had the abortion, a part of me screamed, “Get up and run”, but my body was too numb to walk away. Four months later, however, I conceived again. This time round, out of guilt, I decided to keep the baby. That is how my firstborn born daughter, Kaylene, came about. She is 11 years old and each time I look at her, I am thankful that I made the decision to keep her, no matter the motivation.

I spotted the second red flag in our relationship shortly after giving birth to Kaylene. Jack developed a short temper and each time he had an outburst, I could not help thinking, “If I ever decide to leave this man, he will make sure I suffer by taking away my baby.” What I had not bargained for was that his short temper would transfer itself to me, if that is possible. To date, I still struggle with it.

The face of an abuser

Jack became verbally abusive shortly after my daughter’s first birthday. He would get angry at me for minor mistakes and say hurtful things. When he realised that he had hurt me, he would apologise profusely and swear to never repeat it. But he would. Over and over again.

In 2004, I had my second born daughter, Melody. She was a year old when I had my second abortion. By this time, my relationship with Jack had degenerated and become a predictable cycle of break-ups and make-ups. After conceiving, I convinced Jack that we were not financially ready to support another child, and he agreed to the abortion. The abortions haunted me day and night. Many times, I had nightmares that my two daughters were dead, and often woke up sweating and screaming.

I would get a new job, and because I was too distressed, I just could not perform and would be sacked. My most stable job came in early 2005. My boss and I became close friends. In him, I found someone I could confide in. When Jack found out about our friendship, he got jealous and started beating me. I tried to explain that our friendship was just that — friendship, but he was not convinced.

He began to hit me in front of our daughters and since he was much stronger, I could do little about it. All I could do was scream and shout my lungs out, with statements like “Who do you think you are to hit me?” Then I would pack his clothes and tell him to leave. Unfortunately, our daughters were not spared the violence and shouting matches.

Kaylene was most affected. She still gets scared if she thinks I am angry or when I get into an argument with anyone.

Mid-2005, we had a huge fight over my friendship with my boss. Jack accused me of having an affair with him even though I had already resigned in an effort to convince him that I was faithful and that our relationship was important to me.

The following day, in despair, I took refuge at a nearby church and poured out my heart to one of the pastors. She advised me to take a six-month break from the relationship and think my life through. If Jack still wanted me, he would wait; if he did not, he would move on.

It was a tough decision because to Jack, we were already married while to me, we were just domestic partners. Moreover, even though I wanted a fresh start in life, we had children together, children who were innocent and vulnerable and who loved their father. I sincerely thought that leaving would do them more harm than good.

That evening, I told Jack that I would be moving back to my parents’ home for some time. He reacted by turning violent and we ended up fighting nearly the entire night. The following morning, he left with Kaylene and for the next two months, I had no idea where they were. I almost went mad with worry and fear. He finally called and told me that if I wanted Kaylene back, then I would have to accept him back too.

I had no choice and we reconciled, starting our lives afresh in Busia. This time though, he refrained from beating or abusing me. But there was no longer trust or love between us. I had to leave. I borrowed Sh1,000 from my younger brother, took my daughter, bid Jack goodbye, and boarded the first bus to Nairobi. I had nothing to call my own, I was beaten and worn out, and when my sister, Fridah, who was staying with Melody, my secondborn daughter, saw me, she broke down and cried.

Shortly afterwards, I returned to my parents’ home in Meru. Alarmingly, though, I somewhat still missed Jack, something that greatly incensed my mother. But I stuck to my resolution and my father agreed to take care of my daughters. He gave me Sh5,000 and I returned to Nairobi to stay with my younger brother, Nicholas, and his wife as I looked for a job.

Three months later, in 2006, I got a senior management position at East African Growers Ltd. I was able to move out to live on my own and bring my daughters to stay with me. I also joined the PEFA church in Doonholm, where I got saved and became an active member.

Starting afresh

In 2007, while working in my brother’s studio, I met my husband George, a music producer. We became close friends and I told him about my dark past, even though I had sworn to never open up about it. I realised that I had developed deeper feelings for him when I started getting jealous whenever he hugged his female friends.

Luckily, he too was attracted to me and we started dating in June 2007. I knew that he was a good man even though he was younger than me — he is 29, so there is an eight-year age difference between us. He treated me with respect and accepted my daughters.

We wedded in June 2008 at the ACK Christ Church in Westlands. He has been a good husband and an even better father to our children. He has never favoured his two biological daughters or discriminated against Kaylene and Melody. He is a gift from God.

Why have I shared my story, you ask? As a Christian, I hope this is a testimony that any young person out there will read and be motivated to make the right choices. It is my hope that those who have lost their dreams can reach out to God as I did. I pray too that those struggling in abusive relationships will know that their die is not cast, that they can still get that second chance.

Caroline’s book about her experiences and the lessons she learnt, In the Arms of a Stranger, is available at the Text Book Centre, Wakestar Bookshops, Books First, amazon.com, and createspace.com