In the old ways of our land, a man did not leave his woman for another. He kept both.
He held the first for the steady fire on the hearth, the one who bore his children and kept his compound in order. The second he chased for the wild heat that stirred his blood like palm wine on a festival night. One gave him peace. The other gave him the thrill of the hunt.
He called it “life is complicated.”
I say it is the way of the weak-hearted. A man who fears to lose clings to both and breaks the heart of the one who trusted him fully.
True love is not a basket with many yams. It is a single path cut through the forest—chosen, walked with both feet, no looking back.
He who keeps two women values neither. He only saves himself the pain of decision while planting sorrow in another’s breast.
Such is the selfishness that wears the mask of manhood.
🦋🎼
Reflecting on traditional views of love and relationships, I’ve often encountered the notion that maintaining multiple romantic interests is a sign of strength or necessity, especially when it comes to cultural contexts that see complexity in partnership as inevitable. But personally, I’ve found that genuine love thrives on clarity and wholehearted choice rather than divided affections. In past relationships, I noticed how attempts to keep two loves alive only led to emotional exhaustion and mistrust. The idea of 'life is complicated' often serves as a convenient excuse, but it masks an underlying fear of commitment and the pain of making difficult decisions. This fear can lead to keeping both the ‘steady fire’ and the ‘wild heat’ but ultimately leaves both parties emotionally unfulfilled. True love, to me, feels like forging a single path through untamed forest — it requires dedication, presence, and an unwavering decision to walk forward without looking back. This path might not always be easy or thrilling every moment, but it offers depth, trust, and genuine connection. I also believe that when someone tries to maintain two relationships simultaneously, they risk undervaluing the feelings and trust of everyone involved. It’s a complex dance of selfishness disguised as ‘manhood’ or societal expectation, but it causes more harm than good. In my experience, choosing to honor one path may feel vulnerable and challenging, but it leads to authentic growth and fulfillment that no ‘thrill of the hunt’ can replace. Love that asks us to split our hearts may actually be a call to examine our own fears and courage to fully embrace a singular, committed journey.
