I used to laugh at people who said dreams have meaning.
I thought those were just superstitions passed down by scared grandmothers.
But I’m no longer laughing. Because a dream nearly destroyed my life.
My name is Joyce, and I live in Umoja, Nairobi.
When I moved into my own bedsitter last year, it felt like freedom. My own space, peace of mind, and a job I loved.
But it all started falling apart slowly. Quietly.
It began with nightmares. The same one, over and over again.
I’d see an old woman dressed in a red leso, sitting at the edge of my bed. She wouldn’t say a word. Just stare. Her face didn’t look angry but it didn’t look human either.
I’d wake up gasping for air, sweating, with a heavy feeling in my chest.
At first I blamed stress. I told myself, “You’re overthinking. It’s just pressure from work.”
But then things started happening during the day.
My phone crashed twice.
My laptop wiped itself clean just days before a major work presentation.
My water kept getting disconnected, yet my neighbors had no issues.
I started losing hair right in the center of my scalp.
Worse? My boyfriend of two years ghosted me. No explanation, no warning.
When I finally saw him in person, he just said:
“I don’t know… being around you makes me feel heavy.”
That one sentence broke me. To continue reading, click here.