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Lerato* is a comfortable Ndebele woman, living in a rural area of South Africa. Her husband, his first wife and their children respect and love her. She enjoys the attention she receives as the second wife, even though she was brought into the union as a naïve young woman.
"We'd been going out for over 10 years. Everything seemed perfect, until I asked him to marry me," she says. "At first he seemed reluctant, but – with much persuasion from my side – he finally agreed. His family elders met with mine and lobola was paid."
Lerato says it was only when she insisted they go to the Home Affairs Department to legalise their marriage that she sensed there was more to her groom than she realised.
"He finally told me he already had a wife, whom he'd married five years previously. She was living with him and they'd already obtained a marriage certificate from Home Affairs – so he and I couldn't go and get a second one."
Not easy to share
I was shocked at first, then angry: I felt betrayed. He'd never told me anything about this, and I wanted to call the whole thing off. I wasn't prepared to settle for second-best. But then both families' elders intervened and told me it was my duty, culturally, to accept the arrangement. They said I should learn to see it as an honour, not a disgrace: that he could love me as much as he loved his first wife, and I shouldn't resent her presence. I wept and argued, but eventually I gave in," she shrugs.
Lerato says she found it very difficult sharing her husband.
She hated the idea of him sleeping with another woman, who'd already borne him two children, and spending his time with this "first" wife.
"I thought I'd never get used to this arrangement. I couldn't picture my husband being intimate with someone else," she recalls.
It's now 10 years since Lerato entered her polygamous marriage – and the sadness, loneliness and resentment she felt towards the first wife have all but vanished.
"She and I are actually good friends now. We live in the same house, shop together and don't compete for our husband's attention."
Lerato's situation is the result of the Ndebele tradition which stipulates that a married man may take a second wife after consulting with the elders and informing his first spouse. She, in fact, is the one who subsequently chooses his second wife for him. While the arrangement is acceptable in tribal society, the man must apply to the SA High Court for approval of a written contract which regulates the future matrimonial property division in his two marriages.
Polygamy recognised
Mulalo Nemavhandu of Johannesburg's Kara Institute, which researches African history in relation to contemporary society, agrees that there are circumstances in which polygamy is legally recognised in South Africa, but adds that there's a new and sinister form of union which is fast replacing the old tradition. It's one in which a man marries only one wife, but then takes a young lover on the side, without his spouse or family elders knowing.
"The man then gives his girlfriend a house, car and other tokens behind his wife's back. Surprisingly, even if his family happens to find out about this, they usually collude to keep it a secret from the wife," says Mulalo.
But what makes a woman tolerate the presence of a rival in her marriage – whether legally sanctioned or otherwise? According to Kedibone Selahle of the Family and Marriage Society of SA (Famsa), most women enter these relationships because of societal pressure on them to find a man and produce children.
"In many black societies, a woman without a man and kids is seen as a failure. Fear of this stigma often drives women to accept polygamy or infidelity, simply so they can say they're in a relationship," he says.
Hloni*, 35, a chartered accountant with a big Johannesburg law firm, married one of her colleagues, even though she knew he had a wife. Hloni says her husband's a staunch traditionalist who made his intentions to marry two women known to her even before they began dating.
"I went along with it because he was charming and I couldn't resist him," she says. "I also appreciated his honesty about the issue. However, I admit I was worried about my family's and friends' reaction to the news. I thought they'd ridicule me and tell me I was a throw-back to outdated tribal customs. But when you're in love, it's easy to justify a decision to stay with that person for the rest of your life."
A rare situation
Selahle adds that men like Hloni's husband are rare: it's far more common for a man to deceive a woman about his marital status until she's so emotionally dependent on him that she'll tolerate sharing him, once she finds out the truth.
Nemavhandu believes strongly that there's a distinct moral difference between traditional African polygamy, and out-and-out infidelity, in which a man keeps an illicit lover simply to satisfy his lust and ego. "Women should run away from any man who wants an affair, rather than marriage. Being a second wife is perfectly acceptable and respectable in tribal custom; being a mistress is not. Besides, a woman's rights to a man's property and possessions depend on her being his wife. Mistresses have no legal leg to stand on."
Dineo*, 34, met her husband when she was only 17 and he was 27. They went out and she fell pregnant in the first three months of their relationship.
"I was a child and very naïve," she says. "During my pregnancy he vanished. Then a friend of his told me he was scared I was going to destroy his marriage! You can imagine the shock I felt!" Dineo was left alone to care for her child.
"Five years later, he showed up again. He wanted me to marry him as his second wife – and I did. I still loved him, and my child needed a father, so I settled for the situation."
Dineo says she's never experienced any hardships in her marriage. Her husband, she says, takes her with him to public and work-related functions, and provides for her and their child financially. "The first wife knows about me too. She might not approve of me, but she's stuck with me – just like I'm stuck with her," she says.
No choice
Indeed, Eunice Baloyi, a Pretoria-based social worker, says the first wife in a polygamous marriage is usually the one who suffers most. "The man often fails to discuss the situation with her beforehand and she's finally forced to welcome her companion," says Baloyi.
This kind of resentment is common in any situation where a woman's husband is dividing his affections between partners. Thabile*, 34, is extremely bitter that her husband is seeing a young woman, by whom he's fathered two illegitimate children, and with whom he's now sharing a townhouse in an upmarket Johannesburg complex – while she's been left to live in their old township dwelling.
Thabile's anger is exacerbated by the fact that her husband now intends to marry his mistress, in terms of tribal law, and keep her on as a second wife. "It seems I'm fighting a losing battle, because he's determined to do this," she says. "But I feel terribly betrayed. I was there to help him when he needed me, and was struggling. Now he's wealthy and wants to share our resources with a little gold-digger who never did any of the work for what we've got.
"It's really humiliating – I feel as if I've failed in my marriage. Why does he want to be with someone else? I know this girl's only in it for the money. What hurts most is that whether I recognise her or not, the law does. She and her children will get his money if he dies.
"The pain I'm going through is unimaginable, and I think I'll end up leaving him – let him go to his new wife, and good luck to her!" she says.
Baloyi says it's vital for first wives to go for counselling, if they feel unable to accept an impending second wife in the lives. This will also help them work through natural feelings of resentment and jealousy.
Yet as South Africa's urbanisation increases, fewer and fewer black women are committing themselves to traditional polygamous marriages. Lindiwe*, 25, is one example: she ran away from home seven years ago when she was instructed to fill the shoes of her dead sister by marrying her brother-in-law.
"In our culture, a man expects his deceased's wife's sister to marry him, but I refused. I ran away to study in England and I've vowed never to go home again," she says. "I'm going out with a well-educated man I've met in London, and we're going to get engaged."
Whether a threesome in a marriage is sanctioned by tribal custom or Western courts, one thing's certain: it's never easy sharing a partner with a third party. It takes a strong woman indeed to make the psychological adjustment necessary to tolerate another presence in her husband's life, and the emotional damage inflicted on those who enter into these arrangements can be devastating.
It seems the triangle will never be a comfortable structure...
*Not their real names
