When Senator Ned Nwoko recently declared that he feels sorry for men with only one wife, it sounded like another offhand remark from a man too comfortable in his wealth and privilege to understand the complexities of real relationships. But beneath the surface of his comment lies something deeper, an outdated mindset trying to justify itself in the 21st century.
Appearing on Channels Television’s “Politics Today”, the lawmaker boasted that having multiple wives provides a man with “balance.” His metaphor was that a man with one wife is like someone “standing on one leg,” while a polygamist stands more firmly “on two, three, or four.” He even said he feels sorry for monogamists. But as he spoke, the world was watching a very different story unfold, his actress wife, Regina Daniels, crying on social media over alleged domestic abuse and celebrating her “freedom” in a mansion she bought herself. If this is what “balance” looks like, perhaps monogamists deserve less pity and more respect.
Nwoko’s analogy falls apart under the weight of logic. Balance in relationships does not come from the number of partners a man has, it comes from emotional stability, respect, and the ability to build trust. You can marry four wives and still be a deeply unbalanced man. In fact, most polygamous homes in our society prove this. Many are battlefields of silent competition, envy, insecurity, and manipulation, often disguised with smiles for the public.
It is not that polygamy is inherently evil; after all, some cultures have practiced it for centuries. But it demands extraordinary wisdom and fairness; qualities that even kings often lack. Managing one heart, one personality, one set of emotions is already a delicate art. Managing four? That is no symbol of strength; it is a recipe for exhaustion and chaos unless the man in question is almost superhuman in patience and justice.
Ned Nwoko’s so-called “balance” looks more like imbalance. His marriages are now public theatre, wives competing for attention, rumors of violence, accusations flying across social media. A truly balanced man would not be trending for the wrong reasons every other week.
Let us strip this debate of the cultural and religious defenses often used to justify polygamy. At its core, marriage, whether monogamous or polygamous, is about companionship, emotional security, and mutual respect. But polygamy, by design, divides attention. One man’s love, time, and energy must be shared across multiple lives. Even if he tries to be fair, there is always one who feels left out, another who demands more, and another who quietly resents the entire system. That is not balance; that is emotional arithmetic gone wrong.
Ask any child from a polygamous home what “stability” means, and you will hear stories that could fill a library of heartbreaks. Rivalry among wives often spills over to the children, who grow up in divided households, learning that affection must be competed for. Many end up emotionally confused, insecure, or resentful. In the end, polygamy rarely creates a united family, it often breeds lifelong tension.
So when a wealthy man like Nwoko says he pities monogamists, one cannot help but wonder if what he is really defending is not stability but indulgence; the ego boost of owning multiple homes and commanding multiple loyalties.
Being a monogamist in today’s world is not easy. It takes discipline, maturity, and the courage to face boredom without seeking new excitement elsewhere. But it is precisely because it is difficult that it builds character. Monogamy forces accountability. You cannot escape conflict by moving to another wife’s bed. You cannot dodge emotional responsibility by hiding behind “tradition.” You must face the person you vowed to love and fix what is broken, not multiply your problems through additional marriages.
Monogamy is not weakness; it is refinement. It challenges men to grow, not just multiply. It demands emotional intelligence, communication, and humility, qualities that define true manhood far more than wealth or status ever will.
The modern man does not need multiple wives to prove virility or success. Those days are gone. A man today is measured by how he treats one woman, how he raises his children, and how he contributes to building a stable home in a chaotic world.
When men like Nwoko defend polygamy under the guise of culture or religion, what they often ignore is that culture evolves. The same societies that once glorified polygamy now frown upon it because experience has shown it creates more problems than it solves. Even the Old Testament references Nwoko cited were written in a world where women had little autonomy, and marriage was more economic than emotional. To apply those same principles to today’s world is intellectually dishonest.
If we truly want to talk about faith, then the spirit of most modern religions, including Christianity and Islam, emphasizes fairness, love, and restraint. Few men can truly claim to uphold those values across multiple marriages. So let us stop pretending polygamy is a noble choice for most men, it is often a selfish one.
The emotional cost of polygamy is often invisible until it is too late. Beneath the grand weddings and luxury homes are quiet tears, sleepless nights, and children growing up in competition rather than cooperation. Each wife struggles for validation. Each feels replaceable. And the man? He may feel powerful in public but drained in private, forever juggling the politics of affection.
Nwoko’s ongoing marital saga is a cautionary tale of this reality. No matter how wealthy, educated, or influential a man may be, he cannot buy peace. Love is not a business venture; it is a commitment that demands focus. And focus, by definition, means one at a time.
The irony of men who advocate polygamy is that most can barely manage themselves, let alone multiple women. They romanticize the idea of abundance without realizing that too much of anything, even love, can turn toxic. A man divided among several partners risks losing himself in endless negotiations, expectations, and disappointments. The same energy that could have been spent deepening one meaningful bond gets wasted maintaining shallow ones.
Monogamy, on the other hand, forces depth. It asks a man to look inward, to confront his flaws, to learn patience and forgiveness. It is not a cage; it is a classroom. And those who master it emerge stronger, wiser, and more fulfilled.
Perhaps it is time to turn Nwoko’s pity around. Pity the man who must multiply wives to feel whole. Pity the one who mistakes ownership for love and confusion for balance. Pity the one whose home is a battleground of egos, whose peace depends on controlling rather than connecting.
Monogamists, on the other hand, may have their struggles, but they at least have a clear center, a single compass pointing home. They may not always be happy, but their battles are simpler, their joys more complete, and their regrets fewer.
The truth is, no form of marriage guarantees happiness. But if peace, emotional stability, and genuine intimacy are the goals, then monogamy stands tall. It is not the easy path, but it is the one that tests a person’s true capacity to love.
Senator Nwoko says he feels sorry for men with one wife. But after watching the drama that trails his household, one can only respond: sir, the pity is mutual as the man who cannot stand on one leg with grace will never find balance standing on four.
Marriage, whether in Nigeria or anywhere else, is not a sport of numbers; it is a discipline of heart. And when all is said and done, those who choose to love one person deeply may be standing on one leg, yes, but at least, they are standing firmly.
Given the foregoing argument, it is not out of place to ask, “Between monogamist and polygamist: Who should pity who?”
