T changed their lives in an unexpected way.
They made a runaway match and married early before, well, making a mess of it.
Evans Moyo was born to money, been to school in America, eligible handsome at 27. She was a cool 22, pretty and the poster-girl of the college church choir.
The Christian church marriage was a toast for successful union: to health, love and children and a blessed life to enjoy three!
‘‘I thought I had found love,’ she says.
But life’s not like that as the superbly named Latifah Garande has found out: behind closed doors, the dream turned into a nightmare.
That moment is gone – lost in the clouds of resentful hurled insults that descended on the household.
They began as whispers in the dark, then behind her before the pressure became too much.
She claims her ex started a string of affairs ‘’but always denied them when I confronted him’’.
‘‘I felt devastated . . .’’ Latifah says. ‘‘We tried all we could to hold the relationship together but all was in vain.’’
The deck was certainly staked against her.
For six years long years ‘’I gave it my all but we just could not make it happen’’.
Blame hurts.
‘’My sin: I just could not get pregnant.’’ Accusations and slander amid the turbulence took their toll and the marriage, like they say, ‘‘irretrievably broke down’’, with neighbours and in-laws casting aspersions she must have been around the block before ‘’luring’’ Evans just for the money!
It is in such an environment that Chief Chiweshe, a prominent traditional leader in the country, has added his voice to the issue of female ‘‘infertility’’ by welcoming First Lady Auxillia Mnangagwa’s efforts to address stigma faced by women who find themselves in such childless circumstances.
The First Lady, through her Angel of Hope Foundation in partnership with international philanthropic organisation Merck Foundation, is fighting stigma facing women like Latifah.
Chief Chiweshe, who coincidentally is from Latifah’s home province, says the First Lady’s sterling efforts are a vital cog in the national fight against the infertility stigma in which women face the blame.
‘‘It does not make sense to accuse one spouse when in essence the cause of failure to get pregnant might be due to either,’ he says.
‘‘When it comes to women, the problem becomes bigger (sic) because . . . this is something I hear frequently . . . our culture first blames women when the problem might be lying elsewhere,’’ he says, conceding it is ‘’the normal’’.
According to a fertility clinic in the capital, infertility affects hundreds if not thousands of couples countrywide.
‘’Infertility isn’t just a wife’s problem – husbands can be infertile as well,’’ Dr Anthony Robertson, one of the country’s pioneer doctors at the fertility practice, says at least one third of infertility cases can be attributed to women and the men account for the other third.
‘’The remaining cases may be caused by a combination of risk factors like heavy alcohol intake, heavy smoking, old age, being obese or overweight or an exposure to toxins.
But the harsh reality in our communities is different.
Speaking his mind, the traditional leader, a custodian of cultural values and beliefs in Mashonaland Central, north of the capital Harare, says a lot needs to be looked at before reaching conclusions.
‘‘When it comes to first time marriages, the accusatory fingers always point to the woman without any science,’’ he says.
‘’In most cases that have come before my court . . . childless marriages usually have ended up in divorce and it is only later when the partners have moved on with their lives, that the naked truth emerges.’’
The chief, who also sits in Parliament’s Upper House, as a Senator, explains that stigma of infertile women is a real cause for concern as it disempowers women.
He further urges couples to fully explore causes and settle such issues amicably without resorting to accusations that have no scientific basis and sometimes leading to conflict and ugly scenes.
A similar view is also held by another traditional leader from Mashonaland East. Chief Chiduku.
‘‘The First Lady’s work is bearing fruit . . . from what we are witnessing in our rural area.
There is a discernible shift in attitudes and that fosters women empowerment as it removes the stigma. If it gathers momentum, the country is better for it.’
Underlining the need to raise awareness among communities on stigma and gender-based violence, Chief Chiduku expresses willingness to couple with the First Lady in these processes.
‘’It is certainly the right and positive action for a leader,’’ says the chief.
But a right and beautiful outcome it has been for Latifah – after what must have definitely been a draining experience.
When asked, after a long pause, about anything she has taken from her time with Evans, Latifah says in situations like that, ‘’you definitely find out who your real friends are.’’
‘’All I can add is never once did I think of throwing in the towel. Never!’ says the 33-year-old. ‘’People you thought were your real friends scatter to the winds . . . evaporate just like that!’’
Four years after that acrimonious break-up, she is in a different world. And four years after that divorce Evans is now a most distinguished and still eligible bachelor of 37 – still playing the field and exploring.
Latifah is a mother to three-year-old Nyasha, ‘‘with another seven months away,’’ aptly captures Latifah’s glory of love.
‘‘I am not saying this to disprize him but there’s no quibbling now,’’ is her joyous but humble response.
When asked, after a long pause, Latifah thought for a moment, and then said simply: ‘’But that is now water under the bridge and life goes on.’’
