Didi Pitay, just like any other woman grew up preparing herself for a husband. She had gone through all the training required of a housewife. That is, cleaning the house, staring at her beauty in the mirror, preparing meals, feeding fictitious and real children wherever they were found, and many others.
When a husband eventually walked-by… not like he just walked-by even. Didi had to do stuff to get his attention, to attract him. You know what ladies do, so. She got wooed (as expected) and then became the housewife she always wanted to be.
They got 2 kids – then the tribulations started coming. The first, a boy got diagnosed with something – I don’t know – but they said he had “a hole in the heart.” They needed money for his surgery.
The husband, a union president was a little unconcerned, or so it seemed. All his worries were on the fight for the union to be heard by the government. Didi was heartbroken. She cried all day and night, but the next day, the man would still go out to continue with the union’s struggle.
This happened for a while until the little boy died. However, it was at this point too that the husband returned home with the needed money for the (now deceased) child’s surgery. It was too late. Didi had to leave him.
Didi started making jewelries from little. It was not too long before she got noticed by big-time society persons. Once, a multi-billionaire made her a major supplier of beads jewelries for his daughter’s wedding. Many others followed and then she too was at the top, having her office complex and living in a duplex.
She only stayed with her mum and daughter and few relations of hers. She was dominating, money and class conscious. She hated her past and never wanted to get back there. She dispossessed herself in order to possess more of herself. She kept looking into the mirror, but no longer to make herself beautiful or look attractive for a man, but for herself and her ego, and maybe her family as well.
For her, marriage was the insurance for the worst years of her life, and so she decided to live her best life without going back.
She made meals, not to give out or to feed kids, but for her family and her health. She became her motivation, her inspiration, the one who worked for her own joy. She alone pushed herself, sleeping and waking up to do more. She needed no husband, she was her own husband, no other backbone could be needed, behind her…was her!