I never imagined that joining a polygamous marriage would feel like stepping into a nightmare.
I am my husband’s second wife. At first, I tried to be patient, to respect the first wife’s place, to find peace in tradition. But peace is fragile in a home where jealousy runs deep and where spiritual power can be wielded silently.
It started subtly. Whispered warnings from neighbors. Strange looks from my co-wife. And then, the terrifying truth: every time I sleep with my husband, my face changes. He tells me I look like a monkey, his voice shaking, his eyes wide with fear.
The first time it happened, I laughed. Maybe it was a nightmare, I thought. But night after night, it repeated. The fear in my husband’s eyes grew, and so did my own. I began to see it myself, a flicker of something unnatural in the mirror, a shadow that didn’t belong to me.
In our culture, we call it bewitchment. Some say the first wife may have called on spiritual powers to protect her place in this marriage. Others whisper of ancestral forces, of muti, of jealousy turned into a weapon. I do not know what is real but I feel its consequences.
I feel trapped. I feel humiliated. I feel powerless. I want to love my husband, to be loved in return, but something dark lingers between us. Every glance, every touch, carries the weight of fear. Every night becomes a battle between what I can see and what I cannot.
I have turned to elders, to spiritual leaders, seeking protection and guidance. I have learned rituals, charms, and prayers. But the tension remains. The first wife smiles quietly, knowing something I do not, while I navigate a home where tradition, jealousy, and the unseen collide.
In a polygamous marriage, love is not just a matter of hearts it is a matter of spirit. And when the spirit is at war, even the closest bonds can crumble.
I live in fear of the night, knowing that every time I lie beside my husband, I might become something I cannot control, trapped in a battle between culture, jealousy, and the mysterious powers of the unseen.

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