The betrayal that almost killed me wasn’t just about love. It was about dignity, pride, and the shame of watching the woman I called wife choose another man right in front of my eyes.

It started like a normal fight. She complained of bills, of how life was hard, of how she was “tired of struggling.” I thought it was just frustration. But the truth cut deeper: she already had another man. And not just any man, a mzungu.

One Saturday, she packed her bags while I watched helplessly. She didn’t even hide it. She kissed my children goodbye and told me coldly: “You can’t give me the life I deserve. Stop dragging me down.” Then, in broad daylight, she walked out of our compound and entered the white man’s car. To read more Click here.