When people talk about monogamy and polygamy, the discussion usually sounds very academic or philosophical. But for me, it is personal. My thoughts today are built on where I am coming from, what I have seen with my own eyes, and the lessons life forced me to learn early. So when I say I prefer monogamy with my full chest, it is not just because it looks nice on paper, it is because of the wounds and experiences that shaped my mind.
I grew up in a polygamous home. My father married two wives and still had two other acquaintances outside. In total, we are twelve children. Some people hear that and think it is exciting or lively, but honestly, it was never easy. In fact, most of the stress in my childhood did not come from lack of food or school fees, it came from the atmosphere inside the house.
Polygamy naturally creates competition. Even when nobody wants to fight, the structure itself pushes people into comparison. Among the wives, there was always silent tension. Small things could turn into big issues. Complaints, side comments, suspicion, unnecessary rivalry, it was always there. And as children, we felt it. Sometimes it wasn’t even spoken out loud, but you could sense it in how people relate to one another.
For my siblings and me, my mum’s three children the situation was even more sensitive. We were attending better schools because my mum really supported us. She pushed herself to invest in our education. But the other wives thought it was my dad favouring us, and the envy that came from that was something else. Instead of seeing the sacrifice our mother made, they turned it into hatred and comparison. And as children, we carried the weight of that resentment even when we didn’t ask for it.
Fast-forward to when we lost our dad, everything exploded.
The real colours of polygamy showed themselves clearly. With no will left behind, the battle for property started immediately. Imagine grieving your father while also fighting not to be thrown out of the house you grew up in. They wanted to kick us out, and if not for legal intervention, things would have been worse. Even after the case was settled and every family had their share, the tension, envy, and bitterness did not disappear. It was like the pain of the past refused to close and they had us in mind big time the same people we used to laugh with.
Growing up in that environment taught me something deep: peace in a home is priceless. Harmony in a family is not something to joke with. When a home is scattered with rivalry, children are the ones who suffer the most. And that is why, as an adult now, I stand strongly for monogamy.
Monogamy is not perfect. People still have misunderstandings, struggles, and challenges. But at least it gives two people the chance to build something stable without dragging multiple emotions and insecurities.It gives children a clearer, calmer foundation. And it reduces the unnecessary competition that naturally rises when many partners are involved.
Monogamy gives room for transparency. It encourages responsibility. It helps partners build trust without constantly worrying about being compared or replaced. And most importantly, it builds a home where children do not grow up battling for attention or fighting invisible wars.
So when I say I prefer monogamy, it is not because of society or pressure. It is because I know what the opposite looks like. I have lived inside the chaos, I have seen what envy can do, and I have felt the emotional effects that follow children into adulthood.
Looking at my life now and the lessons I’ve gathered, monogamy is not just a choice, it is my peace choice, my healing choice, my future choice. And I stand on it confidently.
All pictures are mine
