Mary's experience as a widow.

I was dazed at the manner she carried herself. Her aura was something I cherished. Even though she had just lost her husband 27 days earlier. Her tears were just drying yet the determination to suceed was written all over her face. I sat by Mary,at the pavement in her compound. The Kogi tradition thrown at widows, the unfortunate ones, was appauling. As she told me how her late husband's family suddenly changed for the worse, her kids sped past us, emgrossed in their sunset game, 'police and thief'.''Robbins I have seen hell within this short period.''I cut her as I suspected tears will soon cascade down her cheeks.''The Lord is your strength''.Mary suddenly turned to me. Transfixed her eyes into mine. Despite the halfly dried tears which had by now formed an atlas on her cheeks,i could pick out her beauty and innocence distinctively, threatening to mask theirselves behind her glowing chocolate skin. Her intent gaze confused me at that moment. We were in that mood when her late husband's brother came in,unannounced, into the compound. He came to a halt starring at us, just few yards from us.''Mary!What is this? In my brother's house? You could'nt wait for your mourning days to be over before continuing with your prostitution?''I knew trouble was abound as I recoiled in my position. To be continued.