My Husband Wants A Second Wife But That’s Not The Major Problem- Woman Narrates

My Husband Wants A Second Wife But That’s Not The Major Problem- Woman Narrates.



The beginning of our relationship was shaky—very shaky I must say. He’s someone I helped at the hospital. He was admitted to the hospital for close to one month. He had no family member staying to take care of him and according to him, I was the only nurse who was kind to him; “When they come around, they do whatever they want to do and go their way. They don’t listen to what I have to say. They see only a sick body and not a human being. But when you come around, you listen to me. You even ask how I am doing before you attend to me.” I didn’t have much to say. I was only doing my job as a trained nurse.

When he was discharged, he took my number and said he’ll call me. One afternoon he called to check on me. One evening, he called to say good night. The next morning, I woke up to see his good morning message on my phone. One day he asked, “Can we meet?”



We were taking a stroll in the vicinity where I lived when he proposed to me. I said, “We just met. At least, let’s allow the sun to set first before we can think about anything concerning love?” He didn’t want to wait. He said he had seen me long enough to believe I was the one. He said I tick all the boxes for him. He told me he doesn’t want to waste time when it comes to love; “You strike when the iron is hot. There’s no need to beat about the bush. I love you and I want to be with you. It’s better we start now than wait until later.”



I loved him too. He was a gentleman, soft-spoken, and looked like he could take very good care of a lady. The only thing that was pushing me back was his religion. He’s a Muslim and I’m a Christian. I brought that up in a conversation. I asked him how we were going to manage our differences in religion; “I don’t think you want to become a Christian. I don’t have issues with that but I don’t want a situation where you’ll push me to become a Muslim.” He said, “Everyone in my family is a Christian. I’m the only Muslim. I converted to Islam seven years ago because I found something that was at peace with me in the religion. I won’t push you to become what you’re not. It’s love I came for and nothing else.”

We started dating.

It took me only one month to know that our love will travel far. He was there for me every day. After work, he’ll come around the hospital and wait till my duty was over so we could go home together. He’ll give when I haven’t asked. He’ll sense my need through communication and provide. He didn’t go to the skies to pluck me the moon and didn’t provide the air that I breathed. He took care of the little things. He said the right things. He did what he said he was going to do and the things he couldn’t do alone, he asked me, “How can we combine effort to get it done?”

My parents were not sure about him. They didn’t have anything against him apart from the fact that he was a Muslim. “He’ll push you to become one,” They said. “We’ve already discussed that and we’ve agreed to remain in our religion after everything,” I responded. My dad said, “They’ll tell you that just to get your head sweetened. After they get married to you, they’ll frustrate you to join them in their religion.” I told him, “He’s not like that. The things I’ve seen about him, I don’t think he’ll be capable to go that far.” “If he doesn’t do it, his family will push him to do it.” My mom said. I responded, “Everyone in his family is a Christian. He’s the only Muslim. He converted.”



They sighed. The fact that he comes from a Christian home puts them at ease. They stopped asking questions. They allowed us to flow in the love we’ve found for ourselves.

We dated for a year and a half and got married.

I got pregnant a month after marriage. I delivered a bouncing baby boy. A year after the boy was born, I got pregnant again. I had a girl. A year later, I got pregnant again and had another girl. I told him to give me a rest. “We have three. That’s ok. We have both genders. That’s a special blessing. Let’s use the rest of our lives to raise them the way they’ll grow up to become responsible adults.” He said, “One more child wouldn’t hurt. Let’s have a perfect number. Who knows, the next one may be a boy. Two boys, two girls That would be perfect.”

I listened to him and started trying again. Two years later, I couldn’t conceive. He started looking at me weirdly. He was thinking I’d done something to prevent pregnancy. He complained; “Why is the next one taking too long? what have you done that it’s not coming? Are you sure you haven’t taken drugs? I knew I was innocent so I didn’t waste my breath arguing with him. During the lockdown, we had a lot of time together. He spent all his energy on me, morning and evening until I got pregnant again. I had our fourth child. A boy.


Everything had happened just the way he wanted. I told him, “This time around, we are done and I’m serious about it. If not for anything we should consider our financial status too. We don’t have to stretch ourselves too thin on these kids. It’s ok. I will go back to school and better myself. We can earn more afterward so we can push them the best way we can. He agreed. I got FP done. Case close.


Months ago, we attended the naming ceremony of his godfather who is also a Muslim. The man has three wives and the naming ceremony was for his third wife’s newly born baby. I saw how the wives were together and supporting each other at the ceremony and I was surprised. I said in my head, “I can’t do this. Relate to another woman this way knowing that she’s eating my husband? Hell, I can’t.” But he thought it was beautiful. When we were on our way going home, he couldn’t shut up about how the wives were together and how the wives made the ceremony beautiful. We were with other people who were Muslims so I didn’t say my mind.


Weeks later he asked me, “How do you think about me having a second wife?” I said, “I won’t think about you having a second wife because it won’t happen. I don’t want to waste my thoughts on things that are not real.” He said, “Well, I’ve been thinking about that lately. She’s the daughter of our Imam. One very humble and hard-working girl who will bring a lot of blessing into our home.” I responded, “You already know who you want to marry? Tell me, have you been sleeping with her already? You’ve proposed to her and she said yes? Your Imam also accepts this?”

He answered only one out of the thousand questions I asked, “The Imam is aware. You know in our religion, we are allowed to marry up to four wives. He can’t frown on it if I want to marry his daughter.” I said, “If it’s a dream, please snap out of it because it’s not happening. Not when I’m still your wife.” One afternoon, he was talking on the phone when I heard, “She’s here. Would you like to talk to her?” He gave me the phone. I asked who it was and he said, “The Imam’s daughter.” Immediately, my temperature went up. The girl said hello. Her voice sounded like a teenager. The first question I asked was, “How old are you?” She said, “I’m twenty-one” I asked, “What work do you do?” She said, “I’m still in school.” I said, “Concentrate on your books and stop…”



I didn’t finish my statement when he snapped the phone out of my hands and cut the line. It turned into chaos. Our first son ran to me to tell me to stop fighting daddy. For the first time in our marriage, my husband screamed at me, “I’m the man of this house. You’re going to listen to me when I speak. I’m going to marry her and you have no say in this.” I said calmly, “Where’s the money you’re going to use to marry a girl in school? Look around here and tell me one thing you solely take care of. We both pay fees and pay bills. Sometimes I even provide for the food we eat in this house but you have money to think about another woman? She’s even in school. You’re going to take care of her school in addition to the kids you have here? What has come over you?”


These days he talks to the girl on phone in my presence. When it gets to the I love you part, he screams it for me to hear. In the last argument we had he told me, “I want six kids but you gave me four and said you’re tired. I’m getting another woman to give me the rest and you’re here fighting it instead of seeing it as another woman coming in to reduce your stress.” “When did you tell me that you wanted six kids? I asked him. “You’ve never discussed that with me. So why are you bringing it up now? Fishing for reasons to get another woman? Don’t worry. Go ahead and get her but I will be gone before she gets here.”

The last people on earth I would have discussed this issue with were my parents but I had no choice but discuss it with them. My mom thinks I should come home before it happens. My dad thinks I should wait and see if it will happen. Honestly, I’m confused. The only solution I have now is to walk out of the marriage because that wasn’t what I bargained for when I got married to him. But hey, walking out with four kids is so scary. It gives me depression when I think of it. This guy doesn’t even have the money to take care of what he already has, yet thinking of bringing in another woman. How is he going to take care of us? That’s the pinnacle of all my problems.

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