So I’ve been contemplating for a long time whether polygamy was something I would do in life. All my grandfathers were polygamists, my father too. But my experiences growing up as a child combined with the knowledge I’ve gained through research has made me pretty firm in my decision to be a monogamist for life.
I recall my parents divorce story. Abo went on a ‘business trip’ to Africa. This wasn’t completely out of the blue. Abo had a brick and mortar store so business travels didn’t seem unusual for Hooyo. But Hooyo was uneasy about Abo going. Once he left, she went to a business friend who shared the store with him one day after school. She appealed to his Somalinimo and he spilled the beans. How Aabo had alluded to getting married to a wife over in Africa on his trip. Once Abo got back, he came home leaving all his luggage at the house before visiting some friends and family whom he had bought things for. While he was gone that night, and as I was preparing to go to bed, I hear Hooyo calling me downstairs. So I went, and there I find Hooyo sat alone she points to the luggage and told me to bring her the camera bag Abo had taken on his holiday. Initially I refuse as Abo doesn’t like us going through his things. But Hooyo guilt trips “Am I not your mother, I’m asking you to bring me that” so I do. Hooyo asks me to unzip the camera case and switch on the camera. I’m nervous - Abo is probably going to walk in any moment and be so angry I’m going through his belongings. The first photo is a landscape picture of the beautiful scenery. But as I flick through further there are photos of my father suited up, with a bride in a white dress. And I was so stunned. I recall Hooyo breaking down in tears. I was her only shoulder to cry on and I was 10. I didn’t want to cry in front of my mom so I rushed up stairs to my bedroom. It was so sad how in the space of 30mins or so, I went from getting ready for bed and school the next day to going to bed that night in tears, utterly heartbroken. Realising my parents were probably going to have a divorce. And feeling guilty for being the one that played a role in that… why did I have to even be awake that time? If I had just gone to bed 30mins earlier, would my parents have ever had a divorce?
That night started the long process of divorce. There were a lot more arguments, times when Abo would be kicked out, then let back in. Then kicked out again. After a year or so of this, I just remember feeling so mentally and emotionally drained as a kid. Because you would see your parents back together and think that their issues were resolved but things would flare up again in weeks and so you went between the two extremes emotionally of thinking your parents would remain married together or that they were going to separate permanently. Our parents divorce took over our family life. We had a lot of children but both our parents could no longer pay attention to us. Me and my elder sister became really bad in school. I got into a lot of fights. I was so frustrated, felt unheard and powerless to affect my circumstances. I came to school with a lot of rage. My mom gave my dad the ultimatum of divorcing his second wife or divorcing her. His second wife was now pregnant with a son. Family tried contacting hooyo but hooyo felt his family was to blame in keeping his 2nd marriage a secret. I started to see hooyo disrespecting abo. Once abo was calling and she hung up on him, we was suppose to talk to him after her but didn’t get the chance to. As I became a teenager, I started hearing more from scholars about how Polygamy is halal and so I was confused as to why Hooyo was practicing but rejecting parts of Islam. Especially since it meant the break up of our family unit. Hooyo would say things like how Abo didn’t care about us, cares more about women than about his children. Those words could’ve really made me feel some type of way. You know telling your child that their father does not love them isn’t the nicest thing to say. Hooyos love wasn’t all sweet. I started to see how overprotective hooyo was of me, I didn’t know how to communicate this to her. I guess I was embodying the same sort of communication flaws that I had seen in my parents. So my way of dealing with the overprotectiveness of my mother was distancing myself further. This wasn’t easy, as I was hooyo’s only male direct family. All hooyos brothers passed away, since divorcing Abo Hooyo didn’t remarry and thus had no husband. And her father and grandfather were long dead. Even hooyos sisters and mother passed away. I also learned much later on that prior to marrying Abo Hooyo had married and divorced another Somali man back home in Somalia before leaving the country for good. That marriage bore a child, a son. But the son died a few hours after his birth. I’m my hooyos only son. Sat downstairs that night me and hooyo discovered abo’s 2nd marriage in Africa, I remember how I felt. How I promised myself I would never make a woman cry the way hooyo did that night.
My second lived experience of why polygamy isn’t for me is my step brother. A rainy, grey cloudy sky afternoon, sometime in November. I was having my usual evening call with hooyo that weekend, hooyo mentioned abo was moving house with his wife and kids and since he had not seen me for a while, that I should go see him and help him out with the house move. I felt I had more important things to do but went along for hooyos sake. Abo was cheerful to see his son, I couldn’t help but notice the bad vibe he and his wife had. So many subliminal stuff he was saying. I noticed he was also sleeping in a separate room. Hooyo had said something about him and his wife going back and forth. They were close to a serious divorce. But all of these thoughts stood still when I saw my father’s younger son stood atop of the staircase. He was so caught up in his parents arguing downstairs he didn’t even realise I was there. The boy is 10. And it felt like deja vu. I was him just 10 years ago. In the exact position. I thought about what my parents divorce did to me and my siblings. And thought about him and his siblings. How much potential he, just like we have if given the right environment to flourish. I felt so much anger at my father. How could he do this all over again.
Abo, just like many Muslim men talk about how much they desire sons. But from what I experienced, their sons were never given the mentoring, the role models, or the resources they needed to become the best men they can possibly be. I remember Abo’s last words to me when he was leaving for good: “you’re the man of the house now”. At the time I was so proud of that title. Looking back now in retrospect, I feel I was robbed of my boyhood. I feel it was selfish of my father to break up our family over his sexual/emotional desires - something that as adults we’re suppose to have overcome and tamed. To then tell a boy to man up and take on a father’s responsibility. A complete role reversal where fathers are behaving like boys and boys are being told to behave like fathers. The image of that young Somali boy about 10 who looked just like me, stood on the top of the staircase looking down — absolutely terrified of the divorce his parents are going through, will forever haunt me.
My third lived experience of why polygamy isn’t for me is my eyeeyo. Growing up, my eyeeyos house was a safe space. My grandma lived with my great grandma. I was really, really fortunate to have seen both. She lived in a quiet neighbourhood with lots of single storey homes purpose-built for the elderly. Some days after school hooyo or aabo would drop me off at eyeeyos. Eyeeyo’s food was heavenly and she would have some Quran playing while she pruned the trees in her small garden. My great grandma would be in her rocking chair sowing. She must have been 95 but mashAllah she was glowing. She would stop me as I wondered around the small house, call me into her room and tell me long stories about her life. She was so old but filled with so much positivity, so much life. Sometimes I think about her and doing so alone is enough to keep me steadfast in faith, enough to keep me moving forward.
I recall my parents divorce story. Abo went on a ‘business trip’ to Africa. This wasn’t completely out of the blue. Abo had a brick and mortar store so business travels didn’t seem unusual for Hooyo. But Hooyo was uneasy about Abo going. Once he left, she went to a business friend who shared the store with him one day after school. She appealed to his Somalinimo and he spilled the beans. How Aabo had alluded to getting married to a wife over in Africa on his trip. Once Abo got back, he came home leaving all his luggage at the house before visiting some friends and family whom he had bought things for. While he was gone that night, and as I was preparing to go to bed, I hear Hooyo calling me downstairs. So I went, and there I find Hooyo sat alone she points to the luggage and told me to bring her the camera bag Abo had taken on his holiday. Initially I refuse as Abo doesn’t like us going through his things. But Hooyo guilt trips “Am I not your mother, I’m asking you to bring me that” so I do. Hooyo asks me to unzip the camera case and switch on the camera. I’m nervous - Abo is probably going to walk in any moment and be so angry I’m going through his belongings. The first photo is a landscape picture of the beautiful scenery. But as I flick through further there are photos of my father suited up, with a bride in a white dress. And I was so stunned. I recall Hooyo breaking down in tears. I was her only shoulder to cry on and I was 10. I didn’t want to cry in front of my mom so I rushed up stairs to my bedroom. It was so sad how in the space of 30mins or so, I went from getting ready for bed and school the next day to going to bed that night in tears, utterly heartbroken. Realising my parents were probably going to have a divorce. And feeling guilty for being the one that played a role in that… why did I have to even be awake that time? If I had just gone to bed 30mins earlier, would my parents have ever had a divorce?
That night started the long process of divorce. There were a lot more arguments, times when Abo would be kicked out, then let back in. Then kicked out again. After a year or so of this, I just remember feeling so mentally and emotionally drained as a kid. Because you would see your parents back together and think that their issues were resolved but things would flare up again in weeks and so you went between the two extremes emotionally of thinking your parents would remain married together or that they were going to separate permanently. Our parents divorce took over our family life. We had a lot of children but both our parents could no longer pay attention to us. Me and my elder sister became really bad in school. I got into a lot of fights. I was so frustrated, felt unheard and powerless to affect my circumstances. I came to school with a lot of rage. My mom gave my dad the ultimatum of divorcing his second wife or divorcing her. His second wife was now pregnant with a son. Family tried contacting hooyo but hooyo felt his family was to blame in keeping his 2nd marriage a secret. I started to see hooyo disrespecting abo. Once abo was calling and she hung up on him, we was suppose to talk to him after her but didn’t get the chance to. As I became a teenager, I started hearing more from scholars about how Polygamy is halal and so I was confused as to why Hooyo was practicing but rejecting parts of Islam. Especially since it meant the break up of our family unit. Hooyo would say things like how Abo didn’t care about us, cares more about women than about his children. Those words could’ve really made me feel some type of way. You know telling your child that their father does not love them isn’t the nicest thing to say. Hooyos love wasn’t all sweet. I started to see how overprotective hooyo was of me, I didn’t know how to communicate this to her. I guess I was embodying the same sort of communication flaws that I had seen in my parents. So my way of dealing with the overprotectiveness of my mother was distancing myself further. This wasn’t easy, as I was hooyo’s only male direct family. All hooyos brothers passed away, since divorcing Abo Hooyo didn’t remarry and thus had no husband. And her father and grandfather were long dead. Even hooyos sisters and mother passed away. I also learned much later on that prior to marrying Abo Hooyo had married and divorced another Somali man back home in Somalia before leaving the country for good. That marriage bore a child, a son. But the son died a few hours after his birth. I’m my hooyos only son. Sat downstairs that night me and hooyo discovered abo’s 2nd marriage in Africa, I remember how I felt. How I promised myself I would never make a woman cry the way hooyo did that night.
My second lived experience of why polygamy isn’t for me is my step brother. A rainy, grey cloudy sky afternoon, sometime in November. I was having my usual evening call with hooyo that weekend, hooyo mentioned abo was moving house with his wife and kids and since he had not seen me for a while, that I should go see him and help him out with the house move. I felt I had more important things to do but went along for hooyos sake. Abo was cheerful to see his son, I couldn’t help but notice the bad vibe he and his wife had. So many subliminal stuff he was saying. I noticed he was also sleeping in a separate room. Hooyo had said something about him and his wife going back and forth. They were close to a serious divorce. But all of these thoughts stood still when I saw my father’s younger son stood atop of the staircase. He was so caught up in his parents arguing downstairs he didn’t even realise I was there. The boy is 10. And it felt like deja vu. I was him just 10 years ago. In the exact position. I thought about what my parents divorce did to me and my siblings. And thought about him and his siblings. How much potential he, just like we have if given the right environment to flourish. I felt so much anger at my father. How could he do this all over again.
Abo, just like many Muslim men talk about how much they desire sons. But from what I experienced, their sons were never given the mentoring, the role models, or the resources they needed to become the best men they can possibly be. I remember Abo’s last words to me when he was leaving for good: “you’re the man of the house now”. At the time I was so proud of that title. Looking back now in retrospect, I feel I was robbed of my boyhood. I feel it was selfish of my father to break up our family over his sexual/emotional desires - something that as adults we’re suppose to have overcome and tamed. To then tell a boy to man up and take on a father’s responsibility. A complete role reversal where fathers are behaving like boys and boys are being told to behave like fathers. The image of that young Somali boy about 10 who looked just like me, stood on the top of the staircase looking down — absolutely terrified of the divorce his parents are going through, will forever haunt me.
My third lived experience of why polygamy isn’t for me is my eyeeyo. Growing up, my eyeeyos house was a safe space. My grandma lived with my great grandma. I was really, really fortunate to have seen both. She lived in a quiet neighbourhood with lots of single storey homes purpose-built for the elderly. Some days after school hooyo or aabo would drop me off at eyeeyos. Eyeeyo’s food was heavenly and she would have some Quran playing while she pruned the trees in her small garden. My great grandma would be in her rocking chair sowing. She must have been 95 but mashAllah she was glowing. She would stop me as I wondered around the small house, call me into her room and tell me long stories about her life. She was so old but filled with so much positivity, so much life. Sometimes I think about her and doing so alone is enough to keep me steadfast in faith, enough to keep me moving forward.
, that's why I don't feel nothing.
But I feel like my situation is better than those who see their parents miserable together.
