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It was time for us to take our marriage vows.
As I stood there, I couldn’t contain my excitement. My heart swelled with joy knowing I had finally found a wife, not just any wife, but a virgin wife. My smile was so wide and genuine that it caught everyone’s attention, including my bride’s.
I was beaming, filled with a happiness I couldn’t describe. Just before the ceremony started, I walked over to her and gave her a warm hug. I even leaned in to kiss her but stopped myself, remembering it wasn’t time yet.
The congregation watched in surprise, unable to understand the depth of my happiness. I couldn’t wait any longer and pleaded with the pastor to proceed so I could kiss my wife for the first time
The pastor smiled at me, then faced the congregation…Click Here To Continue Reading>> …Click Here To Continue Reading>>
“If anyone here has any reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He repeated the question for the last time.
My patience was wearing thin. “Who on earth would object to my marriage to my virgin wife?”
As I was mulling this over, I was interrupted by a commotion in the congregation. Turning to look, I saw a young, beautiful lady standing with a little boy on her back.
My heart sank as I noticed my bride cutting her eyes and making frantic signs at the woman to sit down.
“What’s going on here? Can someone explain this to me?” I demanded, my voice trembling.
The pastor tried to calm me. “Please, Mr. Henry, calm down.”
The church was in shock. This was unprecedented. The pastor addressed the young woman, “Yes, young lady, what do you have to say?”
“I’m very sorry for what I’m about to reveal,” she began, her voice shaky. “Mr. Henry, please find it in your heart to forgive me. I might ruin your wedding, but the truth must be told.”
She continued, tears streaming down her face.
“Amaka, the bride, has been my childhood friend. I know everything about her. The child you see on my back is her third child.” Gasps echoed through the church as the pastor tried to calm everyone.
I was in disbelief. Rushing to my bride, I pleaded, “Baby, tell me she’s lying.” But her face gave her away. There was no denial, just a look of shame.
The pastor urged the woman to continue. “Many of you might think I’m jealous, but this is the truth, and nothing but the truth. May I never see the light of tomorrow if I’m lying,” she swore.
“She abandoned me with this child five months after he was born and disappeared. It’s been over a year, and she hasn’t once asked about him or called to check on his welfare.
I lost my job because of her, I was humiliated because of this child, and yet she never bothered.”
She paused, “But I’m not alone. I came with an old friend.” She motioned to a man in the crowd. “Mr. Johnson, can you please stand up?”
When Mr. Johnson stood, I turned to my bride in shock. “Is this the same Mr. Johnson who has been calling you every night? The one you said was your brother in China?” She didn’t respond, just hung her head in shame.
Mr. Johnson spoke, his voice calm but firm. “What she said is true. Amaka was my girlfriend. She left when I discovered she was carrying another man’s child. She made me believe she had an abortion and was out of town, but unknowingly she was arranging to marry someone else.”
“My name is Mr. Johnson, popularly known as Papa Ejima. Yes, Amaka was my girlfriend, and she gave me these beautiful twins you see sitting beside me.”
The congregation erupted. People began leaving in shame and disbelief.
My mind was a whirlwind. My head ached, my eyes burned, and my legs felt like lead. Turning to my bride, I begged,
“Babe, tell me it’s not true. Tell me he’s lying.”
For the first time, Amaka spoke, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, my husband. Please find it in your heart to forgive me.”
My world shattered.
“Oh, so it is the truth,” I said, my voice hollow.
She nodded, confirming my worst fears.
“Oh, my virgin wife,” I cried out before everything went black, and I fainted.
The last thing I heard was the collective gasp of the congregation and the pastor’s voice calling for help as darkness engulfed me.
If you’re in my shoes would you still carry on with the marriage 
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