Post by Gladden Ngozi (@Gladden)

I had a bad experience yesterday. Since then, I've tried several times to pen down the ordeal, but my writing skills have failed me each time.

I went for a condolence visit and fell ill in the process. To be honest, I hadn't been feeling well even before leaving home yesterday, but I pushed through because I believed showing up for Peace mattered. The journey wasn't easy, coupled with a few other issues. At some point, I asked myself, "Would I have taken all this stress if I had known the full story?", especially considering the state of my health. But I consoled myself with the fact that I went to support a beautiful soul who truly deserved it.

I have known this woman for over three years. We belong to the same organization. I've even performed with her on stage 2 times without proper rehearsals, yet we stole the show. She is beautiful, intelligent, and has lovely children. I fondly call one of her daughters "Damsel."

Then came the announcement that Peace had lost her husband. My heart went out to her immediately. The women in the organization arranged a condolence visit, and despite the inconvenience, I refused to miss it.

We visited her, condoled with her and the children, and prayed with them. I asked if her husband had been ill. She said no — he simply slumped while getting ready to go out.

One of us then asked, "Has she left the police cell?" By that point, my health was deteriorating, and I was eager to leave, so I didn't hear the response clearly.

Three women were heading in my direction, so we left together. That was when I heard the real story.

The deceased had abandoned his wife and beautiful children for two years and moved in with another woman. During those two years, he never cared for his family. Ironically, he slumped while with the side hen — and that was when she suddenly remembered he had a wife and children and began calling his wife.

Hmmmm… Nwanyi ibem.

The wife rushed to the crime scene — sorry, the venue; I honestly don't even know what to call it — carried her husband to the hospital, only for him to be declared dead on arrival.

MEN! MEN!! MEN!!! How many times did I call you people?

What strikes me most is that this woman has always carried herself with so much grace and dignity that you can't help but admire her. Always looking her best. Now that I think about it, I'm glad I have always been kind to her.

A lot of people are walking around carrying battles they cannot talk about. The least we can do is be kind to everyone we meet on life's journey. You never truly know what someone is going through.

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