Dear Citizens,

Once upon a time, in the ever-dramatic plains of the Republic of Uncommon Sense—where gossip travels faster than MTN data at midnight and logic occasionally goes on annual leave—a strange wind began to blow.

Citizens woke up one morning to find that a single court ruling about the late Daddy Lumba’s two widows had thrown the entire nation into philosophical, matrimonial, and spiritual confusion.

And so, my good people of this honourable Republic, I write to you today with a heavy pen and a mischievous grin to report on a national crisis that has erupted with the speed of a leaked WAEC paper.

No sooner had the judge declared both women legitimate widows than the Trotro Parliament convened an emergency sitting—without quorum, without Speaker, and certainly without shame.

At Kaneshie, the Majority Leader of this unofficial House—an uncle shaped like the Dome of Parliament but with none of its structural discipline—announced that the ruling was “a clear sign from the ancestors to restore polygamy.”

The women in the trotro turned their necks slowly—ah, that particular turn you only see when a wife hears her husband whispering on the phone at midnight.

One Makola woman asked, “Massa, even the one wife you have—is she not suffering? You want to take two so they can share the suffering equally?”

But the men were undeterred. By the time the trotro reached Circle, some had already drafted bold declarations of intent.

At Makola, a referendum broke out. The Market Women’s Caucus shouted, “Who approves of this new polygamy movement? Come and vote!”

The men rushed forward—until the women began clapping slowly. Arms dropped like unripe mangoes in August.

Meanwhile, resurrected internet cafés across Ghana saw unusual customers—married men in bathroom slippers—printing “Application to Take Second Wife” forms.

In one case, a man filled out the form while his first wife quietly appeared behind him like a shadow sent on an errand.

Pastors and mallams then moved in like vultures spotting fresh disaster.

Churches launched “Partners in Multiplication.” Mallams introduced “Second Wife Attraction Powder”—refund not included.

Ghanaian wives mobilised quickly.
Their press release was short and weaponised: “If you take a second wife, we take a second husband.”

Rumour has it that the Ministry of Finance is drafting a memo titled, Macroeconomic Risks of Nationwide Polygamy.

Even the chiefs weighed in: “Polygamy is not for boys who buy waakye on credit.”

And so, citizens of this Republic, we stand at a crossroads.

A simple court ruling meant to settle funeral rites has turned ordinary men—whose socks have holes and whose loans have multiplied—into aspiring chiefs.

Meanwhile, the women stand ready, armed with frying pans, proverbs, and the constitution of common sense.

As the ancestors whispered: when you see a goat following two buckets, one contains water; the other contains pepper. Choose well.

Yours in Uncommon Service,
The Republic’s Humble Storyteller

Jimmy Aglah is the creator of the Republic of Uncommon Sense, a writer known for his sharp, humorous commentary on Ghanaian life, governance, and the everyday madness we all pretend to understand. He is also the author of Once Upon a Time in Ghana and The Price of Gold: The Fight for Sikakrom’s Soul.