Dear other woman, let me have my man when you’re done

I am lying here on my matrimonial bed and his side of the bed is conspicuously empty. I cannot hear his snores, neither can I feel his body pushing me over the edge of the bed.

The bed is warm, but that cannot replace the warmth of my husband. But I know he is in your embrace; sometimes we draw comfort from the weirdest of situations.

You are young and pretty, your subtle skin glows under the sun and it is a little wonder that you have the attention of my husband.

Do you know he missed our son's school show last weekend? He said he had an urgent business trip out of town, but when I was doing his laundry, I found receipts showing he spent in town and oh, a packet of condoms. I am glad you protect yourselves; it means the world to me and the kids.

Strange as it may sound, thank you for teaching him how somethings are done. He bought me lingerie for my 35th birthday; for the first time after 10 years of marriage, lingerie? No, I am not complaining, but he used to love my 'union' panties, but all of sudden, he's into lace.

So well have you taught him, that he has become spontaneous in bed. He suddenly wants us to try new things that would make my grandmother cringe in shame. I am not conservative per se, but as they say, you cannot teach an old dog new tricks.

When I met him, he was a struggling young man and we could hardly afford a decent meal. But over the years, I have watched him blossom from a nonentity to the man you now call 'sweetheart.' When I married him, he wore cotton trousers and walked for miles to work. With my love, resilience, prayers and understanding, today he drives the car you enjoy getting lifts in.

It is because I stood by him that today he can afford the expensive jewellery, clothes and trips he offers you. I cleaned him up and thanks to me; you vaunt my husband like a trophy and partake of my sweat.

But it is fine; I am not a mean woman and I cannot monopolise him. I am not going to look for you and hurt you, it will not be worth it because I want him but do not depend on him for my survival. I am a career woman and you have no idea how hard it is to balance work, family and other responsibilities as a woman.

I have worked hard to reach where I am and while I was attending workshops in a bid to build my career and get these promotions, you kept my husband grounded and warm, thank you. But like any borrowed commodity, one only enjoys it while it lasts.

When all is said and done, he cannot leave his family for you, so cut on the pipe dreams. He is simply being a man and from one woman to another, do not raise up your hopes of having anything beyond the fling. So, whenever he is in your arms, do not believe the sweet nothings he whispers in your ears when his brain becomes dormant and his groin becomes active during the moments of passion.

You are not his one and only, no. You are nothing more than a very much available alternative, someone to remind him of his youthful days and buttress his ego. But he is a married man with nothing much to offer you, other than material things and sweet nothings.

So, as I lie here alone tonight, and he is wrapped up in your arms, do not scorn me for I have been in those arms when they were strong and agile.

Instead, you should thank me for loaning you my man. Draw much from his embrace, for it will last only for a while, for like a crow with a nest on a baobab tree, it might perch on a pine tree for a while, but will find its way back to its nest in the baobab tree.