I Was Told to Check Under My Bed at Midnight, and What I Found Still Haunts Me
My name is Grace Achieng, and I live in Kisumu City, in a quiet estate near Milimani. I am a primary school teacher at a public school in Manyatta, and for years my life followed a simple routine—school, church, home. I live alone in a small two-bedroom house I rented after my divorce. Nothing about my life felt strange or dramatic. That is why what happened still disturbs me to this day.
The first signs were small but unsettling. I would wake up at night feeling watched. Sometimes, around 3:00 a.m., I heard soft movements in my bedroom—like something brushing the floor. When I switched on the light, everything looked normal. My bed was neat, the door locked, windows closed. I told myself it was stress or imagination. But the feeling did not stop. Instead, it grew stronger every night.
Soon, my life started falling apart in quiet ways. I became tired at work, forgetful, and unusually irritable with my pupils. I lost interest in things I loved. I also noticed strange dreams—repeating dreams of being trapped, held down, unable to speak. Every morning, I woke up exhausted, like I had not slept at all. Friends from Kondele told me I looked drained. I laughed it off, but inside I was scared.
