Forty years ago, I was loved by every man in my village for the beauty I possessed. Many men would approach me just because of my radiant, bright skin. Rich, poor, old, and young—they all admired me. But I was not ready to marry, and that was always my response. I just wanted their attention and money. Emotionally, I was not attached to any man. No one dared to ask me out, or they’d face disgrace. My teeth shined like stars, and my lips were as pink as flowers. Fragrance combined with beauty was my top priority. Pamilerin was my name. Mum, dad, aunty, uncle—all smile at me.
When I turned thirty, my mum called me. She said, "Pamilerin, Pamilerin, Pamilerin, you are no longer a kid. When are you getting married?" I had not found the best man to marry was the response. Oh, my mother, “Iya Bisola.” Hmm! She tried to persuade me into marriage, but I wouldn’t listen. May her precious soul rest in peace. It’s not that she didn’t train me well; she was a top-notch disciplinarian. But I wanted to enjoy my life and my time. That was my vibe.
As time passed, men were no longer interested in me because I was aging. I came from a beautiful Christian home. Soon, an Alhaji came to me. He was handsome and rich, and he already had five wives. He was truly interested in me. Out of desperation, I got pregnant for him.
When my mum heard that I was pregnant, she screamed loudly. "No! It can’t be Pamilerin. She can't disgrace me like this!" According to our tradition, once you get pregnant for a man, you must marry him. My mum was heartbroken. She saw me as a betrayal. Nonetheless, she told me that I could stay, even if the man was not willing to marry me. She was ready to bear with me.
Alhaji, happy as he was, came to pay my bride price and took me as his sixth wife. We had a traditional and court wedding, which lasted seven days. Popular musicians like Wizkid, Davido, and Burna Boy came for the event. I was Alhaji’s fifth wife and his favorite. Alhaji loved me, and soon, I loved him too. Our love was deeper than the others. He loved me more than the other wives, and soon, they became jealous. Iya Modina, the second wife, would say, "He will soon marry another wife once your beauty has faded."
"No… No… No… It can’t be me," I said. "Alhaji loves me, and only me."
I gave birth to a handsome little boy. He was cute and loved. I named him Oluwarantimi. The Imam gave him other names, one of which was Hamzat. Hamzat was loved by everyone. The first wife, Iyale, also loved me. In fact, I saw her as another mother. She would take care of Hamzat when I was not home. Soon, I became an Alhajah, and my new name was Mariam.
But then, a fight broke out. Hamzat mistakenly took the second wife’s son’s toy. She was really angry and disciplined my son. As if she was not happy, she called me a series of abusive names. We were not happy together. One day it was a fight, another day, another fight. Iyale, the first wife, would always settle the quarrels. She would tell me to apologize and hug the second wife until she smiled. We were always at odds. Even if I was wrong, Iyale would blame me. She always gave me gifts and many other things, even though all her children were grown. The third and fourth wives came home occasionally. Alhaji had other houses for them, and they had good businesses.
Soon, Alhaji married another wife—a young, dark-complexioned lady named Aliyah. Aliyah was beautiful, only 28 years old. She wore fancy clothes and wasn’t into the traditional housewife role. She brought her guy friends and other family members into the house. No one dared to interact with her because she had a higher chance of being accepted by Alhaji. She didn’t bear a single child for him.
However, she had access to all of Alhaji's property, including his bank accounts. Alhaji took her to top-notch events and invested in beautiful ventures with her. She was different. She had tech skills and was brilliant— a computer scientist and a phone addict. She was just in the house to enjoy herself. She traveled a lot using Alhaji’s funds.
One day, while Aliyah was in the US, Alhaji started shouting, "Yea... Ahh... Mo gbe ooo... My head!" All three wives gathered. All his assets, including funds for projects that had yet to be completed, had been wiped out from his accounts. Alhaji went to the police station to file a complaint, and an investigation began. Alhaji was pampered by his wives because of the situation. Soon, Alhaji called his favorite wife, Aliyah. But she was unreachable. Her phone line was not working, and her family members were also uncontactable.
The investigation report showed that Alhaji had transferred a sum of two billion Naira to five different accounts. Alhaji’s fake teeth fell out. What?! Alhaji had a heart attack and was taken to the hospital. He died after three months of being hospitalized.
Aliyah was nowhere to be found! Her family members were unreachable! We had a big burial for him, but soon, bank officials came. They claimed almost all his properties. However, I thank God that Alhaji had some ventures under my name—one of which was a car company. Iyale was left with iron refining companies and some hotels. I love Iyale. We left the house but were never apart.
One day, a TV report showed that a group of criminals had been caught. A joint investigation by Interpol and the US security agencies caught Abiola, who was actually Aliyah. All properties and funds of this group were returned to the rightful owners, and all of Alhaji's wives received their share. At last, we were joyful.
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