A wake-up call to women fighting over men who aren’t theirs

I’ve tried. Lord knows I’ve tried. I’ve stood up for women, defended us in rooms we weren’t even invited to. But every now and then, my gender will do something that makes me want to log out permanently.

Like... why are we fighting over a married man in 2025? Are we okay? Like, really, are we?

This man said “I do”, signed up for better or worse, probably cried at the altar, and posed for wedding photos with a woman who is not you. And now, you and your fellow sis are out here throwing WWE moves on each other over him?

Ladies. Come on. You're not co-wives. You’re co-victims.

And the man? Relaxing in peace like he’s a king in some badly written telenovela. Meanwhile, y’all are giving front-row drama for free, trending on TikTok, and making it easier for gossip pages to pay rent.

Let me break it down: if “married” shows up in the description, exit stage left. This is not your audition. This is not your moment. This is not love—it’s low self-esteem in HD.

What really kills me is that you’re both probably brilliant girls. In university. With books. With brains.

But somehow, one walking red flag convinced you both to throw dignity out the window and square up in broad daylight.

On school grounds. In front of trees, lecturers, and people trying to mind their business.

Do we not fear God anymore?

And don’t even get me started on social media. These videos go viral faster than your GPA drops after midterms. Everyone’s laughing.

Sharing. Commenting. But behind every “LMAO” is your face. Your future employer might be watching. Your parents definitely are.

And aunties from the village have already added it to their prayer list.

Meanwhile, the man at the centre of it all? Untouched. Unbothered. Married. Probably sipping juice and watching you all fight like it’s the season finale of The Bachelor: Campus Edition.

Let’s stop turning side chick culture into a lifestyle. Cheating isn’t romantic. Chaos isn’t cute. You’re not in a love triangle—you’re in a trap.

And to the influencer at the centre of this mess—sir, if you’re going to play puppet master with women’s emotions, at least have the decency to do it quietly.

This fame-without-morals thing? Tired.

So to my lovely ladies: please. Love yourselves louder. Protect your peace harder.

And if he belongs to someone else? Let that man go.

The streets are wide, the options are many, and therapy is cheaper than a reputation repair campaign.