Big Man Wamkulu

Of alliances and heartbreaks

Dear BMW

About seven years ago I fell in love with a married man. I wasn’t bothered by his marital status, though. We were discreet in the early days of our relationship as we didn’t want to be found out. By and by, we threw caution to the wind and became carefree as we were careless.

We dined together. We drank together. We cried together. We did everything together bar living in the same house. He was my world and I couldn’t imagine a life without him. But his wife soon found out and she raised such a stink we decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. So we split up. It wasn’t long, though, before we were back together with more intensity. It made his wife angrier.

She insulted me. She cursed me. She called me practically every minute of the day. She texted me every second. She threatened to bring down on me the full might of witchdoctors from Mozambique and anyamata onyamula zitsulo from Chilomoni if I didn’t back off. She begged me as one woman to another, to let her have peace, but how I could leave such a sweet man?

So I ignored her. With time she resigned to the fact that he was ours to share. We didn’t necessarily become friends, but she would call occasionally to ask if he was with me if he wasn’t picking her calls. Mostly, he was and I would grudgingly give him my phone to talk to her.

Now you ask, what’s my problem? Well. A couple of weeks ago, she called me to ask if he was with me. I wasn’t. I hadn’t seen him for some time because he had told me he had some domestic chores which were eating up his time. Then she dropped a bombshell. Our man had been spending the past few weekends away from home and she had assumed I had been keeping him busy.

If he wasn’t spending time with either of us, then who could be keeping him busy. A little sleuthing revealed to me that our man had found fresh pleasures in the arms of another woman.

Now, my emotional investment in him is such that I can’t just walk away. I have wasted the best part of my years hanging by his every word. Before I made a bad situation worse, I come before you begging for advice and sanity. Should I tell his wife about his new catch? Should I confront him about his new flame? Is it time for me to call it a day?

Please help, Biggie, I’m on fire.

Woman-on-Fire, via WhatsApp, Lilongwe

 Dear Woman-on-Fire,

I wish I could sugar-coat this, but I will hit between the eyes.

The decision to call it a day is not yours to make. He already has made his bed and he is lying in it. Personal experience should inform you that telling him on his wife or confronting him will change nothing. What is it you want from him? Pension or severance pay? You are yesterday’s flavour. Nyimbo imodzi sachezera gule.

Let the other girl be his wife’s headache. She is just the next step in his life. Give her time. She, too, will be crying like you soon.

You can’t be righteous on account of having lost your place of favour. When two thieves break into the same property, professional courtesy demands that everyone takes away what each came for. At worse, you help out each other for a bigger score. But never raise an alarm for the other. So don’t play the security guard here.

If, as it seems, you don’t want to let go of him, I would suggest you build alliances with the other women. You can form the Atidyenawo Alliance with his new catch to make his wife more miserable or the Enimudzi Coalition with the wife to drive out the interloper. Better still, why not come up with a government of national unity with the other two women; that way you can keep him and share among yourselves.

As for the man, mbuzi iyi yalawa mchere, isiyeni.

Yours in eternal wisdom,

Big Man Wamkulu

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