I remember the day I met Milandu Mweene like it was yesterday. It was a warm, sunny day in Lusaka, and I was walking through the bustling market, trying to find a gift for my mother's birthday. I had just finished my degree in business and was eager to start my career, but I couldn't help but feel a little lost in the sea of people.
That's when I saw her. Milandu. She was standing by a fruit stand, her dark hair cascading down her back, her eyes a deep shade of brown that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. I was captivated.
'Hello,' I said, trying to sound casual. 'I couldn't help but notice you from across the market. My name is Mwamba.'
She smiled, revealing a set of perfectly straight, white teeth. 'Milandu,' she replied, extending her hand. 'It's nice to meet you, Mwamba.'
We talked for hours that day, about our dreams, our fears, and our hopes for the future. I was smitten, and I knew I had to see her again.
Over the next few weeks, we spent every spare moment together. We explored the city, shared meals, and talked about everything under the sun. I was falling in love, and I knew she felt the same way.
One night, as we sat on the banks of the Kafue River, watching the sunset, I took her hand and looked into her eyes. 'Milandu, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.'
She smiled, her eyes shining with happiness. 'I love you too, Mwamba. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you as well.'
We were married a few months later, surrounded by our friends and family. It was the happiest day of my life.
In the years that followed, we built a life together. We bought a house in a quiet neighborhood, and Milandu gave birth to two beautiful children. We were a family, and I couldn't have been happier.
But then, one day, everything changed.
I was at work when I received a phone call from a number I didn't recognize. I hesitated for a moment before answering, but something told me I needed to pick up.
'Hello?' I said, my heart racing.
'Mwamba,' a voice said on the other end of the line. 'This is Milandu's friend, Chanda. I need to talk to you about something important.'
My heart sank as Chanda told me the truth about Milandu's past. She had been a prostitute before we met, and she had never told me. I was shocked, hurt, and angry. How could she have kept this from me?
I confronted Milandu when I got home, and she broke down in tears. 'I'm so sorry, Mwamba,' she sobbed. 'I was ashamed of my past, and I didn't want to lose you.'
I held her close, my heart aching for the pain she must have felt. I knew that our relationship would never be the same, but I also knew that I loved her, and I wanted to make it work.
Over the next few months, we worked through our issues together. We went to counseling, and we talked about our feelings openly and honestly. It wasn't easy, but we were determined to make our marriage work.
In the end, I realized that Milandu's past didn't define her. She was a strong, resilient woman who had overcome incredible challenges to build a life with me and our children. And I was grateful for every moment we had together, both the good and the bad.
As I sit here now, watching our children play in the backyard, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the life we've built together. Milandu and I may have started our journey with secrets and lies, but we've come out on the other side stronger than ever. And I know that, no matter what the future holds, we'll face it together, as a family.
