This is not just a story. It’s a wound. A wound that almost broke me.My name is Miriam, and I never believed in witchcraft until I married a man who was already someone else’s husband.Yes, I became a second wife.At first, he was fair. Kind. Present. He’d split his time equally between both homes. He paid school fees, bought food, even took us out occasionally.
But then everything changed.It started small, missed calls, ignored texts, rushed visits. Then came the insults. The cold silence. The sudden rage over nothing. He’d come home looking dazed, almost confused. He’d stare at me like I was a stranger.At night, he’d sleep facing the wall.Touching him became like touching a log.To read more ,click here
