I killed my husband: I wish I could turn back time

Esther Wa-Njeri, 84 was convicted of killing her husband alongside her daughter Wanjiku. After 19 years in prison, the grandmother and mother of seven tells Caroline Nyanga about coming to terms with her fate and makes a passionate appeal to President Uhuru Kenyatta to intervene and have her released from Langata Women’s Prison

If only I had embraced the virtue of self-control. If only I had reported the matter to the police. Perhaps I would not be in a place that can rob anyone of their happiness; prison.

“If only I could turn back the hand of time.” These words are so automatic as they ring in my head when I wake up each morning from my bed at Lan’gata Women’s Prison, wishing it were my last day.

The pain in my heart still lingers fresh in my mind as I recall the fateful night when my drunken husband returned home and instantly picked a quarrel with me before he pounced on me like a hungry lion — something he did quite often.

During such occasions our children would scamper to a neighboring house for safety, save for my daughter Lucy Wanjiku, now 42, who occasionally intervened to ensure peace reigned in our house.

But after years of silently enduring pain and humiliation, life became unbearable and I contemplated leaving the marriage and taking my own life. But for the sake of our seven children, I chose to persevere my husband’s cruel acts, hoping and praying that someday he would change for better.

On this fateful day, he came home drunk as usual and picked a quarrel with me. This time, I lost my patience and committed the single act that would change my life forever; I hit him with a blunt object that I picked from a corner of our house, unaware that it would kill him instantly. My daughter Wanjiku quickly joined me as we both shouted at her father, telling him that enough was enough and that it was high time he behaved like the father and husband he is supposed to be.

A few minutes later, my husband lay silent on the floor. We were used to him falling asleep in his drunken stupor so we tried to revive him but he did not stir. Then we noticed that blood was oozing from his mouth. In a few seconds of silent shock, my daughter and I stared at his limp body as it dawned on us that he could have been badly hurt.

We spun into action and used one of the taxis in the estate to rush him to hospital. When we got there, a doctor examined him and broke the news to us. He had been killed instantly by the impact of a blunt object.

Time stopped as the impact of the news hit me. What is this we had done? All we wanted was to make him stop. What was I going to tell my children and relatives and what next for me? This question kept ringing over and over in my mind.

What followed next was something I wish to forget for the rest of my life.

That mid-morning hours later, a group of policemen in a van stopped outside our neighborhood and arrested me and my daughter Wanjiku. We were taken to Gilgil Police Station and transferred to Nakuru GK Prison. That was in 1998.

In 2002, the judge in charge of my case found me and my daughter Wanjiku guilty of murder and we were handed death sentences.

At this point I could not believe what was happening to me and my daughter wishing the world would open up and swallow me. ears freely flowed from my eyes running down my cheeks as I looked at my daughter wondering what was going through her mind. I felt solely responsible for her fate knowing too well that, at 23, she was too young to be convicted for life.

Meanwhile, my husband’s relatives and some of his friends opted to distance themselves from us soon after the court ruling. From the look in their eyes, I could tell that they were happy with the judgement.  “Murderers, serves them right. They deserve to rot in prison for the rest of their lives!” is what they must have been thinking.

Back in prison, I kept pondering over my fate and that of my daughter wishing it was a bad nightmare that would soon end. But with time, reality hit us hard that we were indeed in prison to stay as we were transferred to Langata Women’s Prison which has since become our home.

During the initial stages of our stay at Langata Women’s Prison, my children and a section of my relatives made it a point to visit us. However, with time, they got tired and no longer came, leaving us on our own. I choose not to question their actions knowing too well that we were here for life and naturally, at some point, they would eventually get tired of coming.

Ever since I set my foot in prison, I have had it rough. As days turned into weeks, months and years, I developed lifestyle diseases such as diabetes, high blood pressure, stroke, memory loss, poor eyesight and depression, conditions mainly associated with old age. I also increasingly experience poor eyesight and pain in the joints. 

But despite this, just like everybody else, elderly inmates like myself are required to perform some duties. However simple the chores may be, I find them difficult as my body lacks the strength but I have to endure.

Even though I enjoy some privileges including a comfortable bed and a television set in my cell, my biggest wish remains to secure my freedom and reunite with my family back in Gilgil.

Since I came to prison, I have followed the rules, my records are clean; I have never fought with a fellow inmate. It is as a result of this that I was made a trustee, that is why I wear this blue uniform.

I have seen young inmates come here and grow old, some of them finish their sentences and go home while others, like me, are condemned to serving a life sentence.

For the years I have served my jail term, I have always asked God to forgive my sins and give me another chance. Although I am not too sure if my relatives will be able to view me the same way they did many years back, let alone accept me back, I strongly believe that all shall be well.

I know that what I did was wrong and, to a large extent, I stand condemned, and rightly too, by the concerned authorities. However, I am appealing to President Uhuru Kenyatta to grant me pardon and enable me reunite with my family.

My wish and hope is to be able stay with my grandchildren and teach them to be people of good character so that they can be cautious, lest they find themselves on the wrong side of the law. On the other hand, my biggest worry is losing my land to relatives and neighbours.

Meanwhile, it is also my appeal to the Government to take into consideration old inmates and ensure that they get the ‘pesa kwa wazee’ (money for the aged) because, despite being prisoners, we are also human beings who have been transformed through the various sessions we are taken through here in jail.

Recalling the incident which took place almost two decades ago, I have vowed to never commit any wrongdoing if luck comes my way and I am released from prison.