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BROKEN PIECES FROM ANITA


It’s Crucial to Know Your Man

"Before accepting a proposal, scrutinize your partner. Understand his past—his ambitions, beliefs, and background. If necessary, hire an investigator. The story of Anita and her broken pieces should serve as a cautionary tale for anyone on the path to marriage."

I met Leonard at the Gateway Mall exit in 2018. It was beginning to rain, and I struggled with my shopping bags. The bus stop was a bit far from the shop entrance, and there were no Ubers in sight.

We exchanged numbers, and that was the beginning of our fairytale.

We were madly in love. To me, he was Mr. Right—almost perfect. I found no faults in him during our courtship. He was gentle, calm, hardworking, ambitious, and mature about almost everything. A goal-getter with a sharp business acumen, he had made significant investments and had several side hustles. I felt comfortable with him and believed he was the one.

About ten months into our relationship, he made his intentions clear. I thought it was too early, but I didn’t want to delay things any longer. The sparkling diamond he placed on my finger shone brighter than anything I had ever seen.

As we began preparing for our big day, he suggested a private wedding on a yacht in Dubai. I was confused by this sudden change of plans and questioned why it had to be private.

We argued and fought over it, but in the end, his wishes prevailed. Our wedding took place on a private yacht, attended by only a few close relatives, with a strict no-photos policy.

As we approached three years of marriage, I began to feel tense and anxious. Leo rarely spent time at home. He was constantly traveling—two weeks, three weeks, sometimes months at a time. My biggest worry was that I still hadn’t conceived. I had tried every method, both natural and artificial, and I was exhausted. The doctors assured me I was fine, while spiritualists encouraged me to have faith, offering me countless herbal concoctions to drink.

Leo was a very private person. He disapproved of sharing our life on social media, so he urged me not to post any pictures of us together, allowing me only to share images of myself.

One day, while scrolling through my phone, a message from a friend popped up on WhatsApp. It was an image with the caption, “Isn’t this Leo? Or his identical twin?” In the picture, a man who looked strikingly like my husband was at the Ethiopian airport’s VVIP lounge, holding hands and kissing another woman. The timestamp indicated it was taken on the same day Leo had claimed he was en route to Angola. It was Leo, without a doubt. Panic surged through me. Was he having an affair? Was this the reason he was so rarely home?

I lacked the strength to confront Leo immediately, so I chose to remain calm until his return. Two weeks later, he came home, arms full of gifts and a smile on his face. He rushed to me for a warm welcome-home hug, but I responded with a slap across his face. My rage blinded me; I no longer saw the sweet, charming Leo—I saw a liar, a cheater, a monster.

I showed him the picture. His mouth fell open in shock. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way,” he stammered. Really? Was there another “special” way I was meant to discover this? My anger boiled over. What else was he hiding?

“I’m married,” he said. “I’ve been married even before I married you.”

What was he saying? “I have three other wives.” Wow. So I was the fourth? “This one here is Yasmin; we got married a year before I met you.”

His admission infuriated me further. I felt insulted, deceived, and utterly disgusted. Who was this man standing before me? I had spent four years with him and never had a hint of his previous marriages. I knew his friends and family well, yet they had kept this monumental secret.

I felt my soul leave my body; a sudden chill washed over me. I couldn’t speak. Leo stepped closer, gripping my hand. “Don’t even think about filing for divorce. I’m not ready to have your blood on my hands.”

As I share this, I find myself trapped in my marriage. I’m in a dilemma, unsure how to escape this prison. I regret not taking the time to truly know this man. I was blinded by his charm, oblivious to the deceit lurking beneath.

He showed me what I wanted to see in a partner, and I fell for it completely. I should have slowed down, but I rushed into what I thought was a fairytale, only to find myself living a nightmare.

Now, I live in fear, unsure if I will survive to see another day. I long to escape but don’t know how to do so without endangering my life. My family thinks I’m greedy for wanting out. They ask how the other three wives have managed to stay with him, questioning why I want to leave.

So, I share my broken pieces story with you in the hope that you learn from my mistakes. Don’t find yourself in a hellish marriage like mine, only to regret that you were “Not Made for Love.”

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As you weave the fragments of your heart back into place, May you breathe in grace with every step, and space To forgive the missteps, the wrong turns taken deep, And find the peace that's been waiting, the love you've kept asleep. May the weight of yesterday's shadows lift, and the light Of self-worth illuminate the paths you take tonight, May you unclench your fists from guilt's heavy chain, And let go of the whispers that said you're to blame. In the silence, may you hear the beat of your own heart, A rhythm that knows you're worthy, a brand new start, May you untangle the threads of shame and regret, And find the beauty in the lessons you've yet to forget. As you piece things back together, may your soul find rest, May the acceptance you've sought be the balm to your breast, May you rise, reborn, like the stars in the morning light, And shine with the knowledge that you are, and always will be, alright