Meet the women who lost their Valentines but found extraordinary strength
From left: Agatha Lutalala-Karani, Bethroser Gaconde, Eunice Achieng Ndolo and Rahab Muiu. Behind the red roses and candlelit dinners, these women redefine the meaning of Valentine's Day.
What you need to know:
- Valentine's Day, holds different meanings for Kenya's widows, from painful memories to transformed celebrations.
- Through intimate conversations with four women - a CEO, a county chief, a national chairperson, and a county assembly member - we discover how they navigate this romantic holiday after losing their spouses.
- Their stories reveal how love endures beyond loss, as some find joy in new family traditions with their children, while others choose to redefine their identity beyond widowhood, all while keeping their cherished memories alive.
As red roses flooded shop windows and romantic dinner reservations filled up across Nairobi, on Valentine’s Day last year, I watched a colleague step into the Nation Centre lift, clutching a stunning red-themed gift basket. Inside, nestled among delicate wrapping, were fresh flowers, luxurious chocolates, a bottle of fine wine, scented candles, and a fluffy teddy bear – tokens of love that would soon make someone's heart swell with delight.
"Please gift me this basket and get another one for the lucky woman," I teased with a playful smirk.
"Eeeh! No way. This is for my baby girl," he retorted with a firm yet affectionate tone, as I imagined the recipient unwrapping each item with joy.
Yet, as we mark Valentine’s Day today, there are women across the country for whom such gestures now exist only in memory. The title 'widow' itself can reopen wounds, stirring memories of tender moments and thoughtful surprises now confined to photographs and treasured keepsakes. Some shy away from the label entirely, unwilling to be defined by loss.
While February 14, may have originated as a celebration of new love in medieval France and England, today it carries as many meanings as there are hearts to hold them. For widows, the day arrives with a complex tapestry of emotions – grief intertwined with cherished memories, loneliness dancing with fierce independence, and love that transcends the physical realm.
Some find comfort in gathering with other widows, sharing stories of their lost loves and their journeys of resilience. Others choose solitude, turning the day into a personal celebration of the love they once shared. For many, it's a day that has been reimagined entirely – transformed from a celebration of romantic love into something deeper: a testament to love's endurance beyond death, and the courage it takes to carry that love forward.
This Valentine's Day, as couples exchange gifts and whisper sweet nothings, another kind of love story unfolds in homes across the country – one that speaks not of passion's beginning, but of its eternal echo. In these quiet moments, love proves it knows no bounds, living on in hearts that continue to beat with memories of those who made them whole.
We speak with four widows on how they choose to relive-or perhaps not relive-the love they once knew.
Agatha Lutalala - Karani, CEO Bookmark Africa
Bookmark Africa Limited CEO Agatha Lutalala-Karani during an interview at her office in Nairobi on October 2, 2024. She lost her husband eight years ago.
“I think the most memorable Valentine's Day for me was the day I returned home from work to find my two sons waiting behind the door, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the hallway light. As I stepped inside, they greeted me with beaming smiles and held out an armful of vibrant roses, the rich red petals contrasting beautifully against the greenery of their stems. Their gesture was simple yet profoundly sweet, and I felt a wave of warmth enveloping me as I accepted their gifts.
That evening, the three of us sat around the dinner table, sharing a lovingly prepared meal. Laughter echoed in the air as we savoured each bite, and I was filled with gratitude for the bond we shared. By the time my husband passed away, we had enjoyed 26 wonderful years together, and now, it’s been eight long years since he’s been gone.
Instead of letting sadness overshadow this day, my boys have made it their mission to fill that void in their unique way. They always find a way to express their love, showing up with my favourite chocolates and a good bottle of wine. With every passing Valentine's Day, they concoct new surprises, ensuring that despite their father's absence, the day remains one filled with joy and affection.
My youngest son has now reached 26. I'm in m early 50s — each year adds layers to my life, much like a fine tapestry woven from memories and love.
There’s an undeniable sense of longing within me, memories flooding back to the times we would go out. I recall evenings spent listening to Rumba music, our laughter mingling with the rhythms as we enjoyed one another’s company in peaceful silence. I often ponder, "What would we have done together if he were here now?" Yet, I know that such musings are part of life’s fabric.
Despite that deep sense of loss, my sons are always there, their presence a comforting balm. They are protective and supportive, eager to check in on me, especially on Valentine’s Day. Their thoughtful messages, asking how I’m doing, evoke fond memories of their father and remind me of the small, caring things he used to say, like, “Take care of your mum.” Back then, those words felt ordinary, perhaps easily overlooked, but now, they echo with significance, strengthening the bond we hold as a family. I am so proud to see how they've grown into wonderful men, and knowing that they are here to watch over me brings an indescribable sense of comfort and peace.
Bethroser Gaconde, Chief Ngaru Location, Kirinyaga County
Bethroser Gaconde, Chief Ngaru Location, Kirinyaga County during the interview on January 29, 2025.
“I lost my husband on a dreary evening, June 11, 2009, at 6pm, and I can honestly say it has never been easy since that fateful day. The moment I heard the news of his passing was like a bolt of lightning; it struck me with an unimaginable force, leaving me feeling hollow and disoriented. To be truthful, that day marked the worst chapter in my life, a day etched in my memory forever. He had been an Inspector of Roads under the Ministry of Roads and was in hospital at the time.
The shock of his death enveloped me in an overwhelming blanket of grief. Everything felt surreal, as if I were moving through a fog, trying desperately to maintain my composure for him, for us. He was, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to me. Together, we crafted a life rich with laughter, love, and shared dreams. He was a truly great man, full of warmth and kindness, and our lives were punctuated by special moments that I now hold close to my heart.
Valentine's Day, in particular, was our time. He would surprise me with thoughtful gifts, each one a testament to his love, and we would spend hours laughing and revelling in each other's company. I’ll always treasure those luminous memories of him making me laugh until tears streamed down my cheeks, the sound of my joy mingling with his.
Today, I have two grown sons, and they are my closest friends, my anchor in this tumultuous sea of life. The eldest has carved out a life in Nairobi, bustling with energy and opportunity, while the youngest resides in the quieter surroundings of Kiambu. No matter where life takes us, we always strive to gather together on Valentine's Day as a family. My eldest son is married now, and I find immense joy in being a grandmother to a lovely grandson who brings fresh light and laughter into our lives. Having them join us on this special day is a delight; we share meals, stories, and moments of pure joy. Together, we venture out, exploring new places and creating cherished memories, reminding me that, while loss is a heavy burden, love remains a powerful force that connects us all.”
Rahab Muiu, national chairperson Maendeleo ya Wanawake Organisation
Rahab Muiu, national chairperson of Maendeleo Ya Wanawake Organisation, with her late husband, Samuel Kavete Muiu, who was a quality control engineer at Kenya Airways.
“I don't like to be classified as a widow. I’ve always believed it gives a stigma to women. When someone stands up and says, "I’m a widow," it’s as if they’re wearing a label that doesn't reflect the full tapestry of their life. No, my husband lives on in me and our children. I prefer to look at it differently.
Yes, I am a widow, but that’s not my definition. I carry the memory of him, our children, and our grandchildren within me. I choose to recall the 40 years we spent together.
I reflect on those years fondly, back to the 80s when I was a young mother, a devoted wife, and an eager businesswoman. I remember travelling abroad for exhibitions starting in 1983, which, remarkably, is 42 years ago now. Valentine’s Day was our best-selling day.
We sold beautiful vases crafted from soapstone sourced in Kisii, Tabaka. Those vases so delicate, were perfect for holding jewellery, and they sold exceptionally well in Germany, Paris, and the US. By January, we were knee-deep in preparations, busy collecting items that flew off the shelves on that day. It was more about business than personal celebration, you see.
Then, in the 90s, I ventured into flower farming, and again, the February 14, marked the pinnacle of sales for us. I think back to the early 90s during that time, then jump ahead to 2005, when my husband retired and we moved to China. Life from 2005 to 2009 felt like one long Valentine’s Day. We were together, running our shop, and it was blissful. Those five years stood out in our marriage, a golden period for us, even with our children visiting now and then.
So, when I reflect on Valentine’s Day, I don’t do so from the point of loss in 2017. I have such beautiful memories to cherish. Of course, I miss him. I would love to have him around, but I also have my family. February reminds me of the joy we felt when we welcomed our first-born and our first granddaughter. Can you imagine? They’re practically born just a week apart from Valentine’s Day, which fills my heart with delight.
Now, how do we celebrate today? My sons are grown men; one is married, and they often choose to spend the day with their own families. Occasionally, we gather for dinner, but it’s not obligatory. We’re free to choose how to spend the day.
It's not a time for lamentation for me — sometimes I do think, "I wish Mzee was here," but then I remind myself of the blessings I have. I have his children around me, my grandchildren, and my daughter-in-law. I chose to focus on the shared life we had together.
For me, I embrace the idea that he lives on in my heart, in our children, and in our grandchildren. That understanding gives me the energy to move forward and to continue building a life rich with love and memories.”
Eunice Achieng’ Ndolo, MCA South Sakwa, Siaya County
Eunice Achieng' Ndolo, MCA South Sakwa in Siaya County Assembly. She has bittersweet memories of Valentine’s Day. She wishes the day would fly by in an instant.
“Valentine’s Day evokes bittersweet memories for me, particularly of the day he left us; it has now been three years. It used to be such a vibrant occasion when we would gather four or five couples at our home, sharing laughter, enjoying wine, and dancing late into the night. Those moments were filled with joy and excitement, a celebration of love and friendship that brought warmth to our hearts.
However, now Valentine’s Day is one of those days I wish would fly by in an instant. I find myself wanting to forget it even exists. The day carries with it a heavy weight of remembrance, pulling me back to times I’d rather not revisit. Each year, it is a stark reminder of his absence, and it takes me to a place I’d rather leave behind.”