I never thought this would be my life. I mean, I did everything right. I was faithful. I provided.
I never raised my voice or laid a finger on her. I gave her everything she asked for, even the things she didn’t. I was the kind of husband people pray for.
Mercy was the woman of my dreams. Beautiful, respectful, soft-spoken. She cooked with love, laughed with ease, and prayed with me.
For five years, I woke up next to her and thanked God for blessing me with such a partner. But what I didn’t know was that I was in love with a stranger. Someone who wore a perfect mask every single day.
It started with small things. New clothes I never bought. Late-night calls with her phone face down. Excuses.
Long showers after “work meetings.” She began talking less and smiling only at her phone. I asked questions and she called me insecure. So I stayed silent.
Sad young man crying while being consoled by female friends sitting in classroom during group therapy meeting at university
But the heart knows. Deep down, something was wrong.
One Friday evening, I told her I had a work trip to Nakuru. She packed my bag, ironed my shirts, even gave me fare. I kissed her goodbye and walked out — straight to my friend Tony’s house a few blocks away. We sat in his balcony, lights off, watching my house from a distance.
At exactly 10:17 PM, a dusty Probox pulled up. Njoroge wa Makaa. Our charcoal guy. Friendly. Too friendly. The same man I once gave old shoes to. He walked in like he owned the place. No hesitation. No fear. Just confidence.
I returned around midnight, quietly crept into the compound, and hid behind the water tank. I could hear laughter, her voice light, flirty. And then came the dagger to my heart.
“Hiyo yake ni toothpick. Ata simpendi.”
My knees buckled. My heart stopped. I covered my mouth to stop from screaming. She was talking about me.
Sad mid adult businessman crying outdoors
Telling him how I was nothing to her. Laughing at my manhood. That moment shattered me. All the love, the years, the sacrifices gone in one sentence.
I left without a word. I went home the next morning and acted like I had just returned from my “trip.” She smiled and served me tea. I wanted to scream but I kept calm.
But I knew I needed to know more. I needed the truth. That’s when someone recommended Kiwanga Doctors. I didn’t believe in such things, but I was desperate.
I contacted them quietly. I didn’t want drama. I explained my story and they offered me the Faithfulness Spell.
It’s not what I expected it was simple, calm, and surprisingly peaceful. Within days, her behavior changed. She confessed things she never meant to. I didn’t even ask the truth just started flowing.
Now I know everything. The lies. The betrayals. The hidden life. Kiwanga Doctors helped me find peace not just by revealing the truth but by giving me the strength to walk away and rebuild my life.
If you ever feel something is off, don’t wait for pain to confirm it. Sometimes, a little help from the unseen is all it takes.
