I woke up one morning and saw a message from a Facebook account I wasn’t familiar with. The account name was Sa Rah. The message said, “Speak to your wife, or else I will expose her.”
I read the message over and over again and looked at my wife sleeping peacefully next to me. I asked myself what my wife had done that Sa Rah was going to expose her for. I tapped on the name that sent the message and went through her profile. The account looked fake. It had only one friend and didn’t have any photos or any trace of being a credible account.
I responded to the message, “What has my wife done that would make you want to expose her?”
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The message was received, but I didn’t get a response. I thought of telling my wife about it, but then I stopped. I wanted to see how far the conversation with this account would go.
I didn’t hear from her again for about a week. I went back to the message and said, “Hello, please, I’m waiting for your response. What has my wife done?”
A few hours later, she responded, “I asked you to talk to her first. Have you done that?”
I responded, “Yes, I have, but she doesn’t know what she has done, and since she doesn’t know who is speaking, it will be very hard for her to know what you’re talking about.”
Hours later, she responded, “You wait. I will show you everything, and you’ll know the kind of woman you’re married to.”
Several months later, I still hadn’t received any information from this account.
I grew restless.
I started checking on my wife in a way I hadn’t done since we got married eight years ago. I would go through her phone while she slept. Even when I didn’t see anything, I tried going everywhere on her phone to find something by all means.
I checked her call logs. Normal calls. Most were from the usual suspects.
I checked her photos. Normal photos. The last one was the one I took of her after church service.
I checked her emails. The usual spam emails from accounts trying to get her to click on something.
I would even check how she smelled after work to see if there was a male fragrance on her.
I got angry when I wasn’t finding anything.
Every now and then, I would go back to the message on Facebook and say something to let Sa Rah know I was still waiting for her response.
When I had waited for so long and nothing was coming, I asked my wife, “Are you fighting with anyone close to you?”
She shook her head.
I asked, “Has any of your friends turned into an enemy recently?”
She shook her head again and this time asked, “Why are you asking all these questions?”
I told her, “Just be careful because I’ve been having some dreams. In the dreams, someone was after you, trying to hurt you.”
She told me she was going to pray about it because some dreams shouldn’t be taken lightly.
That’s the kind of wife I’ve had for eight years. She prays about everything, and she was loud about her prayers. She would fight with me when I didn’t pray with her about certain issues, especially when it came to the kids.
So when I wasn’t hearing from Sa Rah again, I decided to move on and called the whole situation a false alarm.
Several months later, I had been able to forget about the whole episode and was concentrating on my family when I woke up and saw another message from Sa Rah.
She said, “Your wife is having an affair with my husband. Warn her to stay away, or else I will attack her physically and embarrass her.”
This time, my patience had run thin, so I insulted her and asked her to leave my wife alone if she had nothing better to do with her life.
She said, “You wait. I will show you evidence. She has even been sending nudes to my husband.”
This time, I laughed.
“My wife sending nudes? You might have lost your way. What’s your evidence? Seeing is believing. Show me.”
Again, she went silent.
I concluded someone was pulling my leg. I wanted to block the account, but anytime I tried, the little voice in me said, “Wait small. What if she’s telling the truth?”
When our marriage was only seven months old, I travelled to work in another town. I missed my wife every night and wanted to get naughty with her on the phone, but every time I asked her to snap and send, she said, “The thing is only useful when you’re physically present here. What’s the image of it going to do for you? Come home and it’s here waiting.”
I was away for five months, and within those five months, I came home only five times.
My wife never snapped and sent, no matter how hard I tried.
So I believed deeply in my heart that Sa Rah wasn’t telling the truth, but my curiosity wouldn’t allow me to block her.
Three months later, Sa Rah appeared again.
She asked for my number. She said she was going to send it to me through WhatsApp.
I gave her my number, and nothing came.
I laughed at myself.
“Why are you allowing an unknown person to take you for a ride? Are you that desperate to find fault with your wife?”
Then one day, out of the blue, Sa Rah sent a screenshot of a chat that contained a thumbnail of the nude she was talking about.
The number on the chat was my wife’s number, and although the photo was very small, I could see two or three things that showed that indeed, that was my wife’s body on display.
She said, “Is that not your wife? Put her on a leash before I come for her.”
All of a sudden, I started shaking. She was in the toilet when I pushed the door open and showed her the screenshot.
“Whose husband are you snatching? Herh, are you this cheap? You’re out there displaying your womanhood to the world, and you come and play the saint with me?”
She was quiet, staring at the image as if it was the first time her eyes were seeing it. She got up from the toilet without wiping herself and started begging me.
“This was a long time ago. I was stupid. Please forgive me.”
“Long time when? The person sent this just a few moments ago, and you’re saying what?”
She said, “Check the timestamp. That was eight years ago.”
I checked. It was true. It was around the same time I was working out of town and was begging her to snap and send. That even made me angrier. How special was that person that he got it while I got excuses? She said she never slept with the person, but she was caught in a moment of indiscretion and craziness.
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I walked out to calm myself. It had been eight years, but there are no old wounds. She called to ask me to come home. She cried and begged. I asked if she was still talking to the man, and she said, “He’s dead. He was buried a few months ago.”
So his wife got access to his phone and decided to go for the kill.
My marriage has never been the same again. Rebuilding hasn’t been easy. We build for days, and it all comes crashing down to ground zero, and we begin again.
They say time heals, but they didn’t say how long it takes to heal, so I’m still waiting. But dear, it’s very hard. One day, when someone questions my strength, I will tell them, “I forgave a cheating spouse. There’s no greater strength than that.”
—Gerald
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