My man is Hurricane Katrina’

I have been in a relationship with my boyfriend for seven years but he has put me through a lot of valleys of pain and immense plateaus of pleasure that have left me confused.

Lately, I must confess, my moments of torment have been so frequent that I have contemplated walking away from him to start life afresh, but I just can’t.

Since we met, we have had a cute little three-year-old girl, but there doesn’t seem to be indication that we would get married any time soon. But that is the least of my problems. My major problem is my man who is an unbearable Casanova. In the eight years we have been in the relationship, he has taken to bed my younger sister, three of my cousins, six of my close friends—two of whom he made pregnant—and several other girls I don’t know. A few weeks ago, he had an accident in the dead of night with another one of my friends. I only came to know of the matter because she was admitted to a hospital to treat her of injuries.

Such is his reputation with women that everyone in his neighbourhood calls him ‘Hurricane Katrina’ because of his reputation of sweeping every woman in his way and leaving a devastation of tears in his wake. Every time I confront him about his affairs, he is always remorseful and promises to mend his ways. I must say, however, that it is easier to convert the Pope to Buddhism than for him to change his ways.

Biggie, a part of me wants to leave him, but another wishes to hang around because I love him so much and I know he loves me back with the same intensity. But I want to have a man who can treasure me and consider me as the only one in his life. He is not that man. What should I do?

Natasha by email

Dearest Natasha,

Good luck finding a man who does not behave like Hurricane Katrina. The person who said men are dogs was no mean-minded man-hater or a feminist way ahead of his time. Granted, some women behave worse than dogs, but all men, without exception, are dogs. Terms like commitment and faithfulness are mere entries in their dictionaries and mean nothing.

The fact is, all men cheat. I also cheat occasionally. But your man belongs to the Champions League of cheating. The only one I know who can rival him was my neighbour when I was living in Kasungu. This dude not only impregnated his wife, but he also sowed his seed in her younger sister, their maid, a concubine in Lilongwe and another one in Blantyre—all at the same time. That takes some beating. But did his wife walk out on him? Hello! No! She hang around but she came up with revenge scheme so shameful that her husband couldn’t have an erection for about year. She made out with my houseboy on their matrimonial bed!

My advice would be, hurt him where it hurts most—his ego. Which means, my dearest Natasha, making out with someone beneath his dignity like a houseboy. Or one of his friends!