Women deserve more than suffering!
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ORDINARY CHEATING: HOW A HUSBANDIT HAS BEEN DROWNING IN HIS OWN TEARS
Lately, we’ve been witnessing a strange “mandemic:”
They are crying.
Not about nation-building.
Not about their responsibilities.
Not about their character defects.
No.
They are crying because their wives have finally cheated back.
Every day now:
“Warn Chief Ozugo for me, he is sleeping with my wife.”
“My wife is saying she is polygamous by nature.”
“My wife disrespected me. She said what is good for the goose is good for the gander, and that she is ready to leave me.”
Ah ah, shebi it’s the same “ordinary cheating” that men say women should endure, manage, and swallow like communion bread that has suddenly becomes a world-ending catastrophe when the tables turn.
Because when men cheat, they call it nature.
When women cheat, men call it nuclear destruction.
Let us be serious.
Men have been preaching:
• Men are polygamous by design
• Men provide, therefore they can cheat in peace
• Ordinary cheating does not mean anything, after all, I come home to her
• A good wife should endure
But these same men also want:
• Women to co-provide
• Women to co-finance
• Women to carry the entire domestic load
• Women to carry the emotional labor
• AND still accept that only men are entitled to “extracurricular activities”
It is madness disguised as tradition.
If cheating is a “reward for provision,”
and women now provide as well,
then logically, mathematically, spiritually, and economically,
women are also entitled.
You cannot ask for 50/50 on bills and 0/100 on loyalty.
It does not work like that.
You cannot be polygamous by nature and still expect monogamy by force.
Let me give you a real-life example that perfectly illustrates this foolishness.
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A husbandit came to me recently, crying like a man whose WhatsApp was hacked.
“Osondi, my home is falling apart. Please, talk to my wife for me.” His voice was trembling and quivering.
I almost laughed. I heard some sniveling in the background. Ha! This must be serious. I saw that I had seven missed calls from the kang.
“Osondi, please help me, nwanyi oma. I need my wife back.”
I blinked. Haba! Because this man clearly had amnesia.
His wife had come to ME more than ten times before, begging, pleading, breaking down:
“Aunty, help me. My husband has abandoned me emotionally. I don’t know what else to do.”
Now, let me describe this woman so you understand the level of foolishness we are dealing with.
She is five-foot-nine.
Ebony black skin glowing like glass.
Light brown eyes that can silence a room.
Slim but curvy.
Three children, yet her body still looks like she borrowed it from a 25-year-old fitness model.
Mid-length locks perfectly framing her regal face.
A goddess.
A masterpiece.
A woman you see and rethink your entire spirituality.
Yet this her husband said:
“You’re boring.”
“You’re not interesting anymore.”
“I stopped being attracted to you after the second child.”
Meanwhile, he had not touched her in two years.
Two. Full. Years.
But he was touching everything outside that had fake eyelashes.
This woman told me:
• He hasn’t given her a gift in five years
• He doesn’t take her out
• He doesn’t spend time with her
• He takes his side-chicks out regularly
• He travels with them
• He entertains them in five-star hotels
• He is financially abusive
• He withholds money for the household
• He uses her emotional labor like a mop
• He polices her clothing
• He bans her outings
• He isolates her from friends
• He demands modesty but chases women who dress exactly how she used to
Men and confusion.
An unbreakable bond.
He told her:
“Stop dressing like a university girl.
If you love me, you will change.
Be more spiritual.
Stay in church.
Cut off your friends.”
She obeyed.
She changed everything.
Her wardrobe.
Her lifestyle.
Her social life.
Her joy.
Her sense of self.
And he STILL stopped looking at her.
⸻
Now let’s add the domestic hypocrisy.
This woman works.
She contributes to the bills.
She takes care of the house.
She raises three children.
She cooks, cleans, does homework, does school runs, handles the emotional load.
Men claim they are bored by domestic life.
Women are burnt out by it.
But men expect women to co-finance the family and still perform like domestic machines on command.
She was breaking down.
Exhausted.
Invisible.
Lonely inside a marriage that felt like a prison.
She begged him for counseling.
He refused.
Pastors told her to endure.
She endured.
She lost herself in the endurance.
⸻
One day, she came to me again. “My husband is now talking to his sidechick in my presence. I saw a message saying he wished I was like his sidechick—Auntie, I want to die. If I am boring in my appearance, it’s because of him. He said that I should change my dressing.”
When the sobbing decreased, I told her to take some deep breaths.
I asked:
“Is this your authentic self? Are you being your real self?”
She said no.
She said she hated the new version of herself.
She said she was dying inside.
So I told her:
“Return to your original self. Be authentic to yourself first.
Not for him.
For you.”
Five months later…
She resurrected.
Her glow returned.
Her smile returned.
Her clothes transformed.
Her confidence recharged.
Her aura sharpened.
Her social media began to vibrate. I was pleased. She seemed more confident like the new bride she was when her husbandit introduced to me.
This was the woman her husband chased, wooed and won before he ruined her spirit.
She came to my inbox and told me:
“Aunty, ever since I stopped caring about his rules, my life improved.”
Good.
⸻
Meanwhile, the husband suddenly became paranoid.
Accusing her of cheating daily.
Monitoring her.
Disturbing her peace.
Stalking her happiness.
She told me:
“Aunty, since he keeps accusing me, the thoughts are now entering my mind.
If he asks me again, I might as well do it so at least he will be right for once.”
I warned her:
“Abeg oh! Don’t drag me into that. Be authentic, but don’t use me to justify wahala.”
But men will always push a woman until she adapts to survive.
⸻
Within weeks, she rebuilt her life.
She hired a nanny.
She started planning to expand her trunk fashion business into beauty accessories.
Her new boo promised to sponsor her business and even buy her a business-class ticket to China.
This was a man who appreciated what her husband conveniently devalued.
Then the husband saw the messages.
The new boo was calling her beautiful.
Calling her sweet.
Calling her a blessing.
And then she told him:
“My car is bad. My husband refused to fix it.”
This man sent her nine hundred and fifty thousand naira immediately.
That was the day the husband’s kidney shifted.
He ran to my WhatsApp like a cat on fire:
“Osondi, sister, please help me. My home is falling apart! I no longer understand her schedule. She leaves for conferences whenever she wants to without telling me in advance. My inlaws refuse to correct her.” He was panting like a goat being chased.
Ordinary cheating, sir? I didn’t say that out loud because he was miserable and I was worried he might do something stewpid.
But I was confused; was this not what men said women should handle?
I asked what the problem was. Is it because his wife told her new boo that he is handsome and she was falling for him? Or because she said she likes his slim and flat abs? The husbandit was stocky and had a potbelly. He showed me a picture of his wife’s boo. I tried hard not to laugh but ended up coughing and clearing my throat.
The husbandit was ranting nonstop. I got to understand that he was shocked that his wife could catch such a beautiful male, but what actually broke him was not the love messages.
It was the 950k.
Men are afraid of competition.
I did my best to console him and promised to speak with his wife. I did, but she warned me saying, “Auntie, I managed his cheating for five years and I need smex too! Have you forgotten that he stopped being intimate with me? He said I’m not attractive, ehen. Let’s keep that energy flowing. Me, I don’t find him attractive either. I don’t know why I married him sef. Ewww.”
⸻
A few days later, the wife called me again, furious.
“Aunty, please warn my husband.
Why is he calling my man now?
Why is he disturbing him, please?
Why can’t he face me?
Why does he want to spoil this new joy in my life?”
Then she reminded me of something painful:
“Aunty, remember when my car broke down and I was crying?
I couldn’t fix it.
This man saw me trekking to work, jumping on keke like a stranded apprentice.
He refused to help me.
That same week, he sent eight hundred thousand to his side chick to change her wardrobe.
Aunty, warn him from your side.
I am done.”
She was shaking with clarity.
And then she said:
“He told me he doesn’t find me attractive and interesting anymore.
He has repeated it enough that I believe him.
And I refuse to spend the rest of my life with a man who resents the motherhood he demanded from me.
He wanted all these kids. Let him go and love himself since he believes he is so desirable. Where are his sidechicks, eh? He should go to them. Me, I don’t want him.”
Then she declared:
“We have been roommates for years.
He doesn’t want me.
He doesn’t want other men to want me.
I am leaving today.
My boyfriend told me to start looking for my own place.
He even has options ready.
I am only thirty-two.
I cannot waste my youth on a man who abandoned me long ago.”
She said she would visit the children.
She would rebuild her life.
She was done managing a man who gave her nothing but loneliness and audacity.
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MEN, USE YOUR TONGUE AND COUNT YOUR TEETH
This is the truth:
What a man neglects, another man will treasure.
What a man starves, another man will feed.
What a man abandons, another man will elevate.
What a man calls boring, another man will sponsor to China.
If you won’t do right by your wife, someone else will.
If you treat her as disposable, someone else will treat her as the prize.
And if you teach a woman endurance,
one day she will endure her way right out of your life.
This generation of women has retired from suffering.
The door is closed.
The era has ended.
Men should adjust or continue crying.