My name is Dennis Mwangi, 34, from Umoja, Nairobi. Two years ago I was the happiest man alive walking down the aisle. The pastor who married us – Pastor Gideon – was like a second father to me. He did our counselling, prayed over us, laid hands on us, and told the whole church that we were “a match made in heaven.” I believed him with my whole chest.
Then things got weird. My wife started going for “special prayers” at his place, sometimes coming home past midnight. Phone on silent, messages deleted, attitude when I asked simple questions. She’d snap, “You’re jealous of a man of God!” and I’d feel guilty for even doubting. One evening she said she was going for overnight kesha. Something in my spirit wouldn’t let me sleep. I followed her matatu and watched her walk into a gated apartment in Pipeline – straight into his arms.
Bottles of wine on the table, laughing like teenagers. The same mouth that said “you may kiss the bride” was all over my wife. I stood there like a fool. That night she packed her bags and left. Said she’s now “happy and free with the man who truly understands her soul.” I haven’t slept properly since. Read more https://drbokko.com/?p=35131