My name is Mama Ruth.
For many years, I believed I was doing everything possible to protect my family.
I was the grandmother everyone came to when problems appeared. My children respected me, my grandchildren loved me, and I carried the responsibility of keeping our family united.
But behind my smile was a pain I could never explain.
Out of the eight children born into our family, I had already buried three.
Each loss broke something inside me.
The first time it happened, relatives told me it was part of life.
The second time, fear entered my heart.
After the third loss, I started asking questions that had no answers.
“Why is my family suffering like this?”
“Why does happiness come and disappear so quickly?”
I prayed.
I sought advice from elders.
I tried to remain strong for my remaining children.
But deep inside, I carried a heavy burden.
Years earlier, during a difficult season in my own life, I had sought help from different traditional sources because I wanted to protect my family from problems. At that time, I believed I was making the right decision.
I never imagined that the choices I made during my desperation would later become something my family would struggle with.
As years passed, strange conflicts continued appearing in the family.
Relationships became difficult.
Fear followed us.
My remaining children lived with constant worry.
One day, my eldest daughter looked at me and said,
“Mother, we need to find peace. We cannot continue living with this pain.”
That conversation changed everything.
A family friend suggested that we seek guidance from a traditional healer in Kisumu who was known in the community for helping people reflect on difficult experiences through cultural practices.
We visited Dr. Magongo as part of our traditional healing journey.
He listened carefully to my story.
He did not rush to blame anyone.
He asked about my past, my decisions, my fears, and the pain our family had carried for many years.
He explained that, according to traditional beliefs, people sometimes carry emotional and spiritual burdens that require cleansing, forgiveness, and a renewed commitment to peace.
The cleansing ceremony was prepared with symbolic traditional items.
A calabash filled with fresh water represented renewal and leaving behind painful seasons.
A bundle of traditional herbs represented healing and restoration.
A woven basket containing seeds symbolized rebuilding the family and protecting future generations.
A white cloth represented peace, forgiveness, and a new beginning.
A wooden staff stood as a symbol of wisdom, guidance, and strength.
A small clay pot with natural materials was placed during prayers and reflection as a reminder that old burdens can be released.
During the ceremony, I was encouraged to reflect on my choices, forgive myself, seek peace with my family, and focus on creating a safer and more loving environment for my children and grandchildren.
For the first time in many years, I cried—not from pain, but from releasing the weight I had carried.
I returned home a different woman.
I started having honest conversations with my children.
I stopped carrying everything alone.
I encouraged my family to support one another instead of living in fear.
Slowly, the atmosphere in our home changed.
The arguments reduced.
The fear that had followed us for years became weaker.
My grandchildren grew up surrounded by love instead of constant worry.
Looking back, I realized that protecting a family is not only about fighting outside dangers.
Sometimes it is about facing the wounds, mistakes, and pain hidden inside the family itself.
The symbolic cleansing became a turning point for me—a reminder that healing requires honesty, forgiveness, and the courage to begin again.
Today, whenever I hold my grandchildren, I thank God for the chance to see my family find peace again.
I no longer live carrying only memories of loss.
I live carrying hope.
