It shatters my heart every time I hear the sad tale of a woman whose life was lost at the hands of domestic violence.
On 5th October, 2017 a Guyanese woman was hacked to death in her home by a man who authorities are describing as a close family friend.
The body of 39 year old Kenesha Sheriff Fraser was found in a pool of blood, naked on the floor of the house she shared with her husband and their three children.
Pictures of the crime scene soon emerged and proliferated social media. Pictures that depicted vulnerability, insensitivity and pure evil.
When I got the notification that a message had arrived, I unsuspectingly opened my whatsapp to a sight I wish I could have unseen.
There she laid, the lifeless body of this woman bearing a slash across her chest as if her murderer was attempting to inscribe the letter A.
A slash so deep that her children surely must have felt the pangs of her suffering.
A sight that could only ever be seen at a slaughter house!
This woman, this naked woman cut down, chopped again and again by a weak pathetic blight of nature.
Her life cut short, her presence brutally and permanently plucked from the lives of her loved ones.
What must have possessed this
man, this creature to reign such terror on this woman?
Who bestowed upon this miscreant the right to obliterate the existence of another human being? Rendering her a mere memory.
Kenesha, I did not know you and probably never would have even shared a plane seat with you, but I mourn the loss of your life as if you were flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood.
I weep for your children, our children. It is my hope that time will hasten its therapeutic balm to comfort your family in this melancholic period.
I do not care for the ‘whys’ this was done, the speculative ramblings as to the reason behind this iniquitous act. Who the fuck even cares? There’s no rationalizing this.
That your family finds solace in the memories that were created is my last wish for you.