Karma is a Mirror

Dear God,

You see, many people think karma is some wicked old woman with long nails, waiting behind the bush to scratch whoever annoys her. And that’s why you will hear them say…….“Karma is a bitch!”.

I honestly believe that is an insult. Karma is not a bitch. Karma is simply a mirror; the clearest mirror life will ever hold up for you. And sometimes, that mirror waits years before presenting your reflections directly to you.

Now, Dad, wait first, let me gist You this story (I know you are the Alpha and Omega, but you still love hearing my small gossip from time to time, *wink, wink*).

Back in my village, we had this gentle woman called Mama Ozoemena, the kind of woman whose goodness was so quiet, it whispered instead of announcing itself. She was the first wife of Chief Soja, the legendary former Biafran soldier who somehow never found his way back to his hometown after the war but found himself two wives instead.

His second wife, Aunty Miriam, was a beauty carved from bronze and trouble. Tight skin. Long legs. A smile that could make a man confess sins he had not even dreamt of committing. But beneath that beauty? Ah, the girl carried wickedness like perfume, strong, persistent, and impossible to ignore.

Some say she slipped into the chief’s life through charm, others say through jazz, and some, (who enjoy exaggeration) say she used both. But whatever she used, it worked. Before we could recite Psalm 23, she had become the commander-in-chief of the Soja household.

And who became her favorite target? Guess?

Yes, Mama Ozoemena, the woman who helped build the family business from scratch. Chief soja was a man of means. He started a clothing (Abada) business immediately after the war and had chains of stores all over the popular markets especially in Onitsha.

First, she manipulated the chief until the poor woman was pushed out of managing five stores she built with her sweat. Then came the mysterious deaths: the second son, Olisa, then the first, Ozoemena. Ozoemena’s death was very painful and mysterious. I remember very clearly because we were in the same catholic confirmation class. Fingers pointed everywhere, and somehow all of them pointed at the same person, Aunty Miriam. (the one story that stuck was that she touched his head, he developed headache and died 24 hours later). Mama Ozoemena had to flee with her remaining two girls, leaving behind everything she had worked for.

She never complained. Never fought back. Never cursed. She would wipe her tears with the edge of her wrapper and mutter, “God sees all hearts. Let Him judge.” But she was broken. Ozoemena took her heart with him to heaven.

But Aunty Miriam?

Ah! She flourished like flamboyance itself. Gold everywhere. Overdressed for the simplest occasions. Nails longer than her conscience. Chewing gum as if performing drama. She basked in a victory she never earned, laughing too loudly, stretching her hands too widely, and mistaking her temporary shine for her validation.

Until karma, patient, gentle, but thorough, decided it was time to balance the books.

Years passed. I was already in the university when Chief Soja fell in love again. (Dad, men would usually say “they don’t understand us”, please can you help me tell them that we are clueless how to even read them not to talk of understanding….). This time with Madam Chika, a bold Onitsha businesswoman with a backbone made from steel and a mouth that could slice yam without knife.

Chief planned to marry Madam Chika. The whole village was agog with gossip. Auntie Miriam nearly fainted. She cried until her tears could water a farm. She ran helter-skelter. She wailed, “Why me? What did I do, Chief? Why are you punishing me?”

And all the while, the whole village waited in anticipation, not laughing, not mocking, just… observing. My cousins couldn’t wait to gist me when I came back from school. They said Aunty Miriam took the fight to the new wife but that one was craved from stone. She took one look at Aunty Miriam and told her straight up…” From where I stand, you are not the 1st wife. You ousted someone to take a stand so, move, because this one woman is coming in and you can’t do anything about it”. Oshe!

But Dad, Chief Soja is wicked shaa. He went to marry…. “A badass-bold dare-devil Onitsha woman”. Those people no send you. 1st, they have a superiority mentality…and secondly, they are brazened, before you land one on them, you have collected three faithfully. And so, the war started. Aunty Miriam tried voodoo, it didn’t work…she brought jazz men, Madam Chika installed one inside the house and called him her personal doctor. She fought her physically, Madam Chika beat her up and landed into the hospital 3 times.

She tried to block her from the family business; she got her Onitsha thugs to burn down Aunty Miriam’s 4 shops on the same day. Talk about fire for fire. Shege-Zagwa!

Madam Chika gave birth to a set of twins…two boys, adding to the two teenage boys she brought into the marriage. Aunty Miriam ran and adopted two boys…. One turned out to be an imbecile, while the other was stone deaf. The battle for inheritance has begun.

 

Dad, please ask me about Chief. That one quietly left the burning Onitsha house, sneaked back into our village and married wife number four. Speechless right? I know……the evil bird that sings for some men can only be found in the evil forest……(quote according to my grandma)

And the 1st wife? Her 1st daughter became a medical doctor and the other a registered nurse, and they took her to the US with them. Meanwhile, Madam Chika and Aunty Miriam are still staging battlefields till date of which Aunty Miriam has lost beyond scale. The wealth which the 1st wife helped to build that she fully collected, another ranger has overtaken. The two boys that she allegedly killed to possess all possessions, another landed with four boys leaving her with one imbecile and one deaf and mute. The husband she claimed loved her deeply, is loving many others. Hello, Karma, is that you?

(Dad, please, I am not laughing. Okay, okay, don’t go please…I have wiped the smirk off my face. See, I am holding my good-girl face now!)

Over time, life harvested for her in full scope that which she planted for another. Because that’s the thing about karma: It doesn’t rush. It doesn’t shout. And it doesn’t forget. It simply waits for the perfect moment to hand you a mirror and show you yourself.

Today, Mama Ozoemena is like a sweet sixteen, her skin dazzles like the sun. She is living the life. And Aunty Miriam looks like a wretched ghost of her former flamboyant self. The last time I saw her, I practically stared. At 1st I thought she was a Lunney, until my cousin whispered to me. I totally wasn’t prepared for the turn of event in her life. This lady that was the envy of the whole village, local fashion trend-blazer of all times. Life happened to her……Hard. Bad.

And Dad, that made me wonder about Karma……..Karma is not revenge, No.

Karma is remembrance. Karma is reflection. Karma is restoration.

When someone hurts you, you don’t need to chase them, curse them, or turn yourself into a younger version of Satan to retaliate. You simply step aside and let life do what life does best:

Balance the equation.

Because whatever you sow, you will meet again, sometimes as sweet and peppered, sometimes as a bitter lesson, but always, ALWAYS in a form that teaches you something.

The simplest way to manage Karma is when you do wrong, don’t fear, learn from it. Correct yourself. Apologize where needed. Grow, improve and release your ego. Because when Karma means you, it will build a house on top of that your ego.

So next time someone hurts you, betrays you, disappoints you, steals from you, mocks you, or treats your kindness like a doormat, breathe deeply and remember:

Karma saw it. Karma recorded it. Karma will return it, beautifully wrapped in life’s perfect timing.

And if you are ever tempted to repay evil with evil, pause and ask yourself:

“Do I want to harvest later what I am about to plant now?”

Because the truth is simple:

Karma isn’t a bitch. Karma is a mirror. And the mirror never lies.

This is your daughter Lord, still holding my

good-girl face, and I am checking in.