The grass is not always greener the other side of the longkang

I used to envy a friend.

Today, I sit in her living room, in a grand house, in a posh area. I see that she has some white hair now, but her complexion is as fine as a twenty-year old. We talk about the inconveniences of growing older, but agree that age has somewhat made us see things more clearly, i.e wiser. In passing, she mentions something about her “polygamous” husband. That’s new; in the past she has never mentioned him like that, just “my husband”, even though she is in fact wife no. 2. And then, she confesses, yes her husband has taken a new wife. And she is heartbroken. Who wouldn’t? For many days and nights, she struggles to find acceptance, to have “redha”.

She says, One day, my daughter (8 years old) came to me and asked, Mommy, do you regret marrying daddy? She waited for my answer, I just couldn’t respond, my heart was heavy with sadness. And then she asked again, Mommy, do you regret having me? Then, it hit me. I realize the marriage had not been all futile. It takes my innocent daughter to make me realize something good did come out of the marriage.

Tears well up in my friends eyes. Embak, always the emotional, cry along. I am learning to cope with this trial, she continues. My children are very supportive and understanding. I read books about women in Arabia and how they cope with polygamy. And I turn to Allah most of all.

It is heartbreaking for a wife when her husband takes a new wife irregardless what th wife she is. Another friend of mine who is a third wife fell into depression when her husband took wife number 4.

I guess a rich polygamist will always strive to fulfill his quota.

I am no longer envious.