A bleeding wound that never heals

REPORT

Name of the victim: Hamisi Juma Mwadungudu

Age: 48

A story told by Spouse: Momo Suleiman Mwamchera (39 years)

Our lives have been very tough in the past year.

I was left with nothing to fend my five children and ensure everything is okay. We were barely surviving before, but the situation turned from bad to worse after the painful death of my 48-year-old husband, Hamisi Juma Mwadungudu.

I am always down on my knees, asking God to heal my heart, but the innocent faces surrounding me always remind me of their late father. They keep asking about his whereabouts.

One day, my youngest child asked me, “When will you bring back our dad?” How am I even supposed to respond?

My husband used to take our children to school in the morning and picked them up in the evening. That had strengthened the bond between them.

We were a humble but happy family. We did not lack basic needs despite the struggles. God was always on our side. 

My husband was well known by many Bodaboda operators in Likoni, Kiteje and other community members he used to help. He was like a saviour in this locality.

Until the day my husband was beaten by police officers and left for the dead. He was rushing a pregnant woman to Likoni hospital from our home area in Kiteje in Matuga Sub-county, Kwale for a medical emergency. That alone is a true indication of how kind-hearted my husband was.

On returning from Likoni at an area known as Mkunazini he was assaulted by police officers enforcing the curfew. He fell off from his motorcycle. All the police officers descended on him very hard.

They used all sorts of weapons like wooden ‘rungus’, elastic pipes, blows and kicks until he was unconscious. 

They thought my husband was dead, and they left him by the roadside just near his motorcycle. Sometime later, he gained consciousness and took his motorcycle and rushed home.

He was at high speed when he arrived home, he entered the house and fell on the floor. We were all shocked and trembling since we saw that all was not well.

“I was assaulted by police officers at Likoni. I am in deep pain… I cannot walk,” he told.

We started looking for help from neighbours to take him to the hospital, but since it was during the curfew hours, no one was ready to step out. We had to wait until the next morning for us to rush him to the hospital.

We took him to Kwale hospital, but to my surprise, none of the doctors attended to him as an emergency case.

Hamisi complained of deep chest and stomach pains. His body was full of injuries, and his back was swollen.

Though the hospital confirmed that he had injuries in the stomach after conducting an X-ray, the doctors were treating the case as just ‘a normal one’ until I started complaining.

They later admitted that my husband, now groaning in pain, needed urgent surgery, but it could not happen at that hospital because machines were not functioning.

By that time, I was almost losing my mind since my husband’s situation was worsening, we were later referred to Msambweni hospital.

On the third day since my husband’s ordeal, I watched helplessly as he breathed his last at the wee hours of Sunday, March 29, 2020.

An autopsy that was conducted at the Coast General Referral Hospital showed that my husband had perforated intestines that released toxic waste to other vital organs that failed, causing his death.

His demise left me with no choice but to struggle with what life brings my way. 

For the past year, I have restrained myself from going to Likoni since that place gives me fresh memories of my husband lifeless body lying at the Msambweni Sub-county hospital.

He was our only source of hope, we fully depended upon him for upkeep, not only with my children but the entire extended family.

His father is under psychological torture and suffers from mental disorders as a result of the loss of his son.

The painful part is that Inuka police officers detained his motorcycle which was our only source of income. To date, they have not returned it to us.

I decided to start a food hawking business so that I can feed my children. Our firstborn completed secondary education and the last born is in class three.

I go through a lot of psychological suffering, but I believe God will not abandon us and that one-day justice will prevail.

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