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Eish bafethu . . . umjolo this week is misbehaving like a drunken uncle at a wedding. Hearts are bruised, brains overheating, and dignity is on life support. Let’s dive in.
I WANNA LEAVE HIM,
BUT NOW HE IS CRIPPLED
Dear Bra Binzy,
I am a very beautiful woman who turns heads in the streets. I’ve got myself into a bit of a pickle. I met this very rich and totally boring guy who claims he loves me more than life itself. He can afford anything I want and has even bought me a car. I have absolutely no feelings for him and he’s a monumental disappointment in bed. I ditched my boyfriend of 3 years who wanted to marry me, when this rich dude came into the picture. He paid school fees for my siblings and bought a house for my parents. Last year, he proposed marriage. I decided I could no longer pretend to love him even at the risk of losing all the financial freedom he brings. I find his attention nauseating and his bland jokes grate on my nerves like sandpaper dipped in acid. When he shows me off to his family and friends, I just wish I could die or the earth could open up and swallow me. In short, we don’t vibe at any level.
The problem is that on the night I made up my mind to end this hellish nightmare with him, he had a car accident. Now he’s crippled and in a wheelchair. He keeps saying terrible things like he’s lucky to have me and life would not be worth living if I was not there as his future bride. Bra Binzy, how do I get out of his life without looking like a gold digger? Please help me bro. Anything is better than living with this guy or marrying him.
— Ngizazibulala – South Africa
Bra Binzy Responds:
Eish sisi . . . haa . . . this one is a whole movie. But let’s break it down, straight no chaser. First things first: don’t fool yourself. You DID come as a gold digger. You left a man who loved you for a man who could swipe cards like a magician. Ungazenzi innocent. But here’s the real twist: you’re not trapped because of the wheelchair. You’re trapped because you built your whole life on the man’s wallet, and now you feel guilty walking away from someone who suddenly became vulnerable.
Sisi listen, guilt is not love. Pity is not commitment. And a marriage built on shame? Disaster. The man deserves someone who actually wants him. And YOU deserve a life where you aren’t pretending 24/7 like an actress who never gets paid.
Tell him the truth gently: you need to work on yourself, relocate, and find space, whatever. Set boundaries. Step back slowly. If people call you a gold digger, let them bark. They don’t live in your mind.
And learn, mama. Not every glittering wallet is a soul mate. Sometimes God lets a man be boring for your own safety.
SEX, LIES AND THE STI TRAP
Dear Bra Binzy.
I met this hot chick at university who is also crazy about me. Last month I did something I shall regret for eternity. I allowed her best friend to seduce me. We had sex and she gave me a dose of the clap. I could not tell my girlfriend for obvious reasons. I’m getting the STI treated and I’m still in the window period for HIV tests. My girl’s friend is now blackmailing me into having sex with her again. She says she’ll tell her friend if I continue refusing. I can’t afford to lose my girl’s trust and love. I have offered to pay her friend off but she still insists on sex. She’s even denying she infected me. I’m losing my mind bro. Ndinokumbira please help me.
— Nigel – Marondera
Bra Binzy Responds:
Eish mfowethu . . . wakanganisa big time. But let’s deal with the situation like a man. First, blackmail is a criminal offence. You don’t negotiate with blackmailers, they get hungrier. Today she wants sex, next week she wants rent money, transport money, groceries, and another round. You’ll become her personal slave.
Second, go get your final HIV results. Living in fear will fry your brain before the truth even arrives.
Third, tell your girlfriend. Yes I said it. Confession will sting, it might even end the relationship, but it breaks the blackmail chain forever. Otherwise you’ll spend the next five years living like a fugitive in your own life.
And last thing. Stop letting your trousers think for you. That friend didn’t seduce you. You allowed it. Own it. Fix it. Grow up.
DEAD MAN WALKING IN MY HOUSE
Dear Bra Binzy,
I know you won’t believe me but hear me out. I’m convinced my husband’s late brother is living in our spare room. He died three years ago, but ever since we inherited his clothes and furniture, things have been strange. I hear footsteps when no one is home. My husband says I’m crazy but I swear I smell his cologne in the corridor.
Last month I found one of his jackets moved from the wardrobe to the bed. My husband thinks I’m imagining it. I can’t sleep. I feel watched. I feel cold patches on my legs at night. I’m scared to tell neighbours because they’ll laugh.
Is this a ghost or am I losing my mind?
— Thandi – Luveve
Bra Binzy Responds:
Sisi sisi haa . . . this one is spicy. But let’s calm down. First thing: grief plays tricks. Trauma makes the mind hear footsteps, smell cologne and see patterns where there are none. You’re not mad. You’re scared. And you’re lonely inside that fear.
Second thing: tell your husband to remove EVERY item that belonged to the late brother. Not because they are haunted, but because your mind has tied the trauma to the objects.
If things continue after that, go see a counsellor. Not a sangoma chasing imaginary shadows for a fee. A real counsellor. Ghosts don’t move jackets. Trauma does.
And if your husband ever tells you you’re crazy again, tell him from Bra Binzy: “Respect your woman’s fear. It’s real even when the cause isn’t.”
Until next week bafowethu, keep your hearts clean, your secrets light, and your trousers zipped.
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Eish bafowethu, this week the letters came in hotter than a Pelandaba stove. Heartbreak, blackmail, guilt, lies, lust, and the madness people put themselves through trying to chase love, money or vibes. But as usual, Bra Binzy is here to unpack it slow slow, sip the truth like hot tea, and dish out the unfiltered reality you NEED to hear. Let’s get into it.
