My Best Friend Sl*pt with My Husband and Sent Me the Video — A Confession from a Heartbroken Nigerian Wife.

 

I never thought I’d be one of those women writing into a blog like this. You know, the ones you read about and think, “God forbid, it can never be me.” But here I am because it was me. And I haven’t been the same since.

My name is Ifeoma. I’m 34 years old. I live in Lagos with my 3-year-old son, and I just left my husband of eight years after discovering the most painful betrayal of my life.

It happened about five months ago, but the wound still feels fresh. It started with a message one stupid, short WhatsApp message from my best friend, let’s call her Amaka. The same Amaka I met during NYSC in Calabar. The same girl who shared garri with me when we were broke, who stood beside me as my maid of honour, and who even stayed with us after losing her job in 2021. That Amaka.

She sent me a message at 7:42 p.m. that Sunday evening. I’ll never forget the time because it changed my life. “I’m sorry, Ify. You deserve to know” attached was a video.

Something in my spirit said not to open it, but curiosity and dread took over. I pressed play… and my world ended right there.

It was my husband and Amaka. In my bedroom. On my bed. Laughing. Naked. Making love like two people who’d done it many times before. I even saw the Ankara bedsheet I had changed the day before. My own house!!.hmm.

I threw my phone across the room. For the first few seconds because I couldn’t even cry. My body went cold and my legs literally shook and with that, I fell to the floor and started screaming, praying it was a dream. But it wasn’t.

You know what hurts the most? It wasn’t even the s*x. It was the betrayal. The knowing. She knew what I’d been through with my husband. The miscarriages. The financial strain. The constant pressure from his family to “bear a son,” even when they knew we were trying. Amaka was the one who used to rub my back when I cried. She was the one who helped me plan surprise birthdays for him. And this is who he chose?

That night, I didn’t wait for him to return. I sent the video to him with just three words: “God sees you.” He came home around 11 p.m. crying like a baby. Telling me it was a mistake. That he was “lonely.” That I wasn’t “giving him attention.” Imagine. After I carried pregnancy, managed home and office, and still knelt to serve him food? Attention?

Amaka didn’t even bother to deny it. Her message:
“It just happened. I didn’t mean for it to get this far. I’m so sorry.”

No explanation. No tears. Just a casual “it happened” like we’re talking about spilling stew on the floor.

I left both of them. Packed my things and moved in with my younger sister in Yaba. I didn’t even take the wedding photo off the wall. Let it haunt them.

I’m still trying to rebuild. Some days are better than others. Some nights, I still wake up crying. But I’m learning that pain doesn’t kill—it teaches.

To any woman reading this: don’t ignore the signs. Don’t let “history” blind you to character. And don’t ever think you’re immune to betrayal. Even the ones who know your deepest secrets can use them to destroy you.

Please, I’m sharing this not for pity, but for healing. If you’ve been through anything close to this cheated on, betrayed by a friend, humiliated in your own home leave a comment below. Let’s create a space where our pain is heard, and our stories can help another woman rise.