"I and my children were beaten and kicked out of our house by the
brothers-in-law. We live by begging, in continual fear"
Widow's Stories
In many countries in Africa, it is considered a ‘crime’ for a woman to lose her husband, and she is blamed for his death. Because of this, widows are humiliated, deprived of their homes and children and punished for the death of their husband... Women are subjected to inhumane, obscene and heinous treatments because they committed the ‘crime’ of allowing death to take their husbands. These stories demonstrate that in these societies it is the duty of the wives to ensure that their husbands do not fall ill, are not attacked by armed robbers or do not get killed by motor accidents.
Esther's Story ( from WIDEN)
Four years ago, my husband left home to attend the marriage ceremonies of his last sister in his village. Half and hour before reaching his village, he was involved in a head-on collision with an on-coming vehicle that was overtaking another vehicle. The impact of the crash was such that both drivers died on the spot.
The following morning a cousin came to Calabar, where I lived, to tell me that my husband had suffered an accident and was admitted in the hospital. I went to the hospital, only to be taken to the mortuary to see his corpse. I fainted! I wish I had died, but the mortuary attendants revived me and from that moment, my day turned to night!
When I got to my house in the village, I was treated with hostility; in fact,
I had become an outcast in my own home! My in-laws had broken into my home,
and as I made my way to my bedroom, my brother in-law barred the way and warned
me never to think of venturing into the room, that it no longer belonged to
me. 
My elder sister in-law, who had always been hostile to me, accused me of never coming to the village to help my mother in-law with farm work, and said that my husband was treating me like a queen. That I gave her mother money to pay for someone to help with the farm work did not matter to her. She now gathered other relations about her to attack me.
’You have killed him, you witch!’ she screamed at me with all the venom she could muster. ‘You have killed my brother and I will make you pay for it.’ I looked at the faces around me and tears streamed from my eyes in torrents.
I was taken to the servants’ quarters and told to occupy one of the rooms there, just for the period of the burial. For once my husband was buried; I would no longer be welcome in the village.
On the day of the burial, my husband’s corpse was washed and the water
given to me to drink, as a sign that I had no hand in his death. Not yet done
with me, they abducted me to the village shrine in the forest, where my head
was shaved and certain concoctions poured on me, and as I was about to be made
to drink this concoction which would have killed me, a young sympathizer brought
my male relations to the shrine and they rescued me. My in-laws aim was to
kill me so that I would not fight for my husband’s property.
I left the village immediately after the burial, a bent and broken woman.
Members of the family came to Calabar to claim his property. My husband was
a bank manager, and knowing the traditions of his people, he had made me and
his first son his next of kin. He had also bought every item of property in
my name, so when the in-laws rushed to claim his gratuity, they were rebuffed,
and when they attempted to pack everything in the house, I showed them the
receipts bearing my name. They left, raining abuses and curses on me. They
have never asked after the children, whom they considered to be liabilities.