Tendai Ruben Mbofana
Just yesterday, photos from a wedding attended by someone close to me flooded my phone.
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The images captured immense joy and unbridled celebration—most notably from the bride and groom, whose faces radiated genuine pride and a boundless hope for the future.
The exquisite decor and meticulously crafted menu bore witness to months of exhaustive planning and a massive financial investment poured into a single, extraordinary day.
Yet, as I sat at home scrolling through those breathtaking moments, my screen simultaneously began delivering terrifying reports of the gruesome murder of Midlands State University lecturer and Zimbabwe Human Rights Commission Commissioner Dr. Martin Muduva.
He was brutally axed to death by his wife, Lyliosa Chirara, in Dzivaresekwa, after which she ended her own life by ingesting rat poison.
Reports indicate this tragic climax followed escalating extramarital affairs, culminating in Chirara discovering her husband’s secret traditional marriage to his five-year colleague and side chick, with whom he shared a child.
I found myself paralyzed by the contrast.
How does a union that begins with such jubilant optimism end in bitter betrayal, bloodshed, and a double funeral?
Surely, Martin Muduva and Lyliosa Chirara were once as madly in love as the newlyweds I celebrated yesterday.
They, too, undoubtedly organized a grand wedding, gathered their loved ones to witness their vows of fidelity, and swore to stand by each other through every tribulation.
Yet today, their story ends not in the quiet dignity of “till death do us part,” but in two coffins, two burials, and a trail of shattered lives.
What happened?
More importantly, how do so many of us arrive at this breaking point?
Modern statistics paint a sobering picture, showing that nearly half of today’s marriages end in divorce.
Are young people truly prepared for the lifelong reality of marriage, or are they simply falling in love with a fairytale?
Too often, couples enter matrimony to fulfill a fantasy—entranced by a single day where they are the center of the universe, treated like royalty for a brief afternoon.
They pour massive energy and resources into a single party, while leaving the decades that follow to complete chance.
The tragic truth is that many broken marriages fail long before the first step down the aisle.
Blinded by romantic infatuation and consumed by wedding logistics, couples willfully ignore the glaring red flags in front of them.
Having offered my fair share of informal marriage counseling over the years, I always remind friends that the warnings are rarely absent—we simply choose not to see them.
No matter how sweet or polished someone acts during courtship, true character always leaks through.
The grey always shows in the white of the black hidden underneath.
The signs are always there.
Promiscuity reveals itself early through guarded phones, secretive routines, unprovoked defensive outbursts, and a habit of maintaining ambiguous relationships under the guise of casual friendship.
Possessiveness and jealousy manifest not as care, but as micro-managing a partner’s attire, policing their social circle, or reacting with subtle resentment whenever they shine independently.
Insecurity and an unhealthy desire for validation display through an insatiable need for public praise, passive-aggressive fishing for compliments, or constantly measuring the relationship against external standards.
Anger issues are evident long before a violent outburst; they peek through road rage, silent treatment used as punishment, smashed objects during minor disagreements, or a total inability to manage frustration gracefully.
Beyond recognizing these warning signs, how often do couples sit down to rigorously plan their actual lives together before promising forever?
Are we simply too distracted by the romance to tackle the uncomfortable truths?
We rarely pause to ask the fundamental questions: Do we want children, when, and how many?
How will we discipline and raise them?
How will we handle our respective roles, manage our finances, or navigate the influence of in-laws and wider family?
Crucially, do we share aligned religious and cultural beliefs, and have we explicitly agreed on how we will resolve intense disagreements when they inevitably arise?
Consider the Muduva tragedy.
The lethal fallout stemmed from a secret second marriage under customary law.
Yet, polygamy itself is not inherently a death sentence; successful polygamous unions have existed across Africa and Zimbabwe for generations.
The foundational pillar of traditional polygamy (barika) in Shona culture has always been transparency and structured order.
Historically rooted in social standing and economic prosperity, the process strictly relied on the guidance of the first wife (vahosi), whose explicit consent and involvement were essential.
She might even initiate the search, often suggesting a younger relative (chimutsamapfihwa) to preserve household harmony.
The traditional protocol was meticulous: the husband informed his senior aunt (vatete) and the vahosi, who together approached the prospective bride’s family.
A neutral go-between (munyai) was dispatched to present the initial formal notification (vhuramuromo) to open discussions.
Only then did standard roora negotiations begin, where payments like rutsambo and cattle were pledged to legitimize the union and grant paternal rights over future children.
Finally, the secondary wife (mupyori) was welcomed into the homestead (musha) through formal rites, establishing her designated kitchen while observing clear deference to the vahosi.
None of these steps were followed in Dzivaresekwa.
Martin Muduva operated under civil marriage expectations with Lyliosa Chirara while covertly practicing customary polygamy, creating a volatile breach of trust that led to catastrophic failure.
Had open discussions occurred from the outset, alignment been reached, and cultural boundaries respected, two lives might not have ended so horribly.
It is heartbreaking to write this in the wake of such loss, but we cannot afford to look away.
A 50 percent divorce rate is not just a statistic; it is a profound societal warning light.
If we do not begin taking marriage preparedness as seriously as we take wedding planning, the tragic story of Martin Muduva and Lyliosa Chirara will not remain an isolated anomaly.
A wedding is merely a day; a marriage is a lifetime.
It is time we start investing accordingly.
- Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to contact him on +263715667700 or mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com