Dear Jean, How Do I Capture The Eye Of Your King?

So since my last post about the King wanting to take a third wife from among the daughters of Canaan/Zimbabwe/Ophir, I got an inbox from a Zimbabwean lady who said…

“Mary-Tamar, I am considering writing to the King on Facebook, I thought I will tell you first. I am a Chihera but I want to settle down now, am a single mother to one girl. Is he considering single mothers? What should I do ka to catch his eye, maybe he will choose me…”

Facebook inbox

This message got me thinking, and I gave the girl her blessings for her bravery to approach me, and without a ghost account too. She used her real Facebook account with her real name, which is something rare in the Zimbabwe community. Zimbabwe/Canaanite social media reigns supreme with Ghost accounts. I get attacked by so many different Ghost accounts, so once I had to explain to the King what Ghost accounts actually are as in Ghana social media they do not have a pandemic of Ghost accounts like Zimbabweans.

So a message like I got from a Zimbabwean woman asking me how to catch the eye of the King, would normally come via a Ghost account if truth be told, so I was amazed by her honesty and I thought her answer deserved an article as I know there are many out there thinking like her…as the search for the King’s Zimbabwean wife is on…

I will first address the single mother issue. Will the King consider a Zimbabwean single mother as his third wife? The answer is yes, the King’s greatest weakness is that he has such a soft spot for single mothers. But of course he is not going to take on a mother of 4 like he did with me, I was special alright, the most he can take is a single mother of 1, two at the most if the woman is really exceptional.

Now moving on to how to please the King to find his favour…

This one, I can only speak of my own journey…of how I found his favour, and here it goes…

When I first met Nino, or rather when he came to the UK to live with me, I had everything all worked out. Because he was younger than me, and had never been married before, I thought he was a “fresh boy” I could actually be in control of, but I was in for a shock.

When I call Nino my King, its not only because he is my personal King as in my Lord and Master, but he really is an actual King, royal blood runs in this man’s veins. When he moved into my house, I had no idea who he was spiritually.

But it so happened at that time, that my best friend was a white woman born in British Aristocratic Family line, high secret society and all that, whose own parents are invited every year at Prince Charles’s dinner at Clarence House she told me, yes, in such a twist of my life, at the lowest of my life, I met this white woman, ever so posh and we clicked like that, for a year we were inseparable as she was trying to break away from the “satanic society” as she called it…and I was going through a traumatic painful divorce and my own “family” were treating me like shit, basically. So we were both like two lost souls, trying to come up with an answer.

As I was walking on this painful chapter of my life with her, I met Nino…

The truth is I learnt so much from this girl, Charl, there is no one I miss in life more than I miss her, she had a certain type of wisdom I have never beheld before, she spoke like no one I had ever heard, even though we were from two very different worlds, cultures and backgrounds, we had so much in common it was like a dream…so surreal.

So when Nino first moved into my house, and I was struggling with the whole dynamics of who he is and how he works, she was the one to tell me that…”This man is royal Jean, he is a King can you not see it? He has royal blood running in his veins. White people destroyed the royal Kingdoms of Africa, but it doesn’t mean their seed was destroyed and they don’t exist anymore. Sit your ass down and obey him, and you will be happy.”

She told me this brutal truth after I had disobeyed Nino, and we had such a huge fight, and I called Charl to say can you believe this Ghanaian man…and she shut me right there, and told me I was acting like a foolish woman, and if I didn’t take care, this King was going to walk away from me and leave me worse of than he had found me…

She told me to simply OBEY….as that is how Kings are treated, especially by their women…

She told me that I reminded her of Kate Middleton. She said I was a black Queen, and my ex-husband could not stand my anointing he could not have possibly been with me. So she said I could only be with a man like Kofi, and to win his heart I had to be trained by him, like how William trained Kate for years when they were dating, only proposing to her after she had waited for so long.

At that time I also had a Zimbabwean friend, who was telling me to dump Nino saying he was a “control freak and demon possessed.”

I had to pick which counsel to listen to, and my guts went with Charl, she is the woman who trained me on how to be a wife fit for a King…

And today I give that counsel, as the Queen of the House of Offeh, to any Zimbabwean woman who desires to win the heart of the King. This should tell you that I fear no woman, I am the King’s apple of his eye, and my position is firmly established not only in his heart and House, but before all his family, friends and relatives, they know me as his most beloved, mother of his heir.

Like I mentioned before, to be in this position, my friend Charl gave me life changing advice after I had fought with Nino, and he packed his bags ready to leave me. I phoned Charl, and she told me to apologize to Nino and grovel, and that I was the one in the wrong…

What had happened, one may ask?

Well, before I met Nino, I was a single mother of 4 going through a painful divorce as well as having “family” and the members of Walter Masocha’s cult torment me. I was living in hell on earth. I used to cry myself to sleep and would walk in the streets and see women smiling and would tell ask myself “will I ever smile again”. When I saw women smiling and walking with their husbands, I envied them, and looked at their happiness, and I saw it as a miracle of life, just to be happy, because I was in such a dark place where I never thought it was possible to ever smile again, never mind happiness.

I never knew I could smile in the streets again
I never knew a man could make me smile.

So I would buy myself a bottle of Baileys each week. And sometimes I bought red wine to drink and numb my pain.

So when Nino came into my house, he saw a bottle of Baileys in my fridge, and he binned it. It made him so angry, and he said no woman should drink alcohol it is disgraceful behavior, not in his presence and certainly not without his permission. He literally banned me from ever drinking any alcoholic drink.

I told him that he can’t do that, he can’t control me, I’m not an alcoholic I just have a glass of wine here and there, and I love Baileys it’s a milky drink anyways it’s not that alcoholic, I told him.

He told me that if I ever drank any alcoholic drink again the relationship would simply be over, he would just leave, it was that simple.

So I told my Zimbabwean friend and she was like, “What a control freak, my husband lets me drink wine. Jean don’t be controlled, there is nothing wrong with having a drink of Baileys here and there, it’s not like you are a drunkard.”

So I went and bought myself a bottle of Amarula….sadly the Zimbabwean pagan gods and spirits were still reigning in me. Lol contrary to what my Zimbabwean friend thought, I was rather the one demon possessed.

To Nino’s shock and anger, he saw the bottle of Amarula in the fridge, and came and confronted me and told me to bin the bottle myself. I refused and started shouting at him, calling him names and all sorts.

He started packing his bags…

I thought he was joking, then I realized this man was actually going…

I didn’t want him to go…the thought of him walking away killed me…

I couldn’t say I was sorry, I couldn’t humble myself to throw away the alcohol and make him win…

So I had to think of plan B, then I went downstairs and started creating some drama to make him stay…like basically kicking off and throwing clothes saying if he leaves I’m going to burn them…

He was basically ready to walk out of the house, then he saw the drama and shook his head and put the bag down…he was scared I was about to start a fire, which honestly I wasn’t…

So he was like, “Ok baby, stop, I won’t go, don’t burn anything,” And he took the lighter from me and the clothes I had put in a heap…and started comforting me…

Though I was embarrassed by my un-lady like behavior in front of this young man I had just met, deep inside I was smiling saying, “Thank you God I got him to stay, Lord I can’t live without this man”…but I couldn’t still humble myself to say sorry or better still throw away the Amarula.

When the situation was calm, Nino said he was going for a walk, I could tell he was still angry with me.

So thinking I was a justified victim of a control freak, I called Charl, and to my shock she slapped me back to reality.

“The kicking off Jean, and threatening to start a fire and all that, that is the first and last time you will get away with behaving like that in front of Nino. If you continue behaving like that in front of a man you will freak him out and he will think you are crazy. He’s taken on your children and this man has been so good to you, you were a single mother of 4 for crying out loud. And you want to throw it all away for a drink of wine? Alcohol is for miserable people you don’t need it anymore love, you have Nino now. This man, who is a black King is simply telling you that I am now your wine or baileys or whatever alcohol you thought could quench your pain, obey me and I will make you happy.”

Her wise counsel was like medicine to my bones. And from that day I never bought alcohol or drank Baileys or Amarula ever again.

And as Beyonce sang, I really became DRUNK with the love of the King.

I became Drunk with the King’s love.

So my white friend Charl was ever so right, she taught me a lot more than the words she gave me. It took a white woman, to teach me the importance of obeying the protocol of a black King. Yet you have black women claiming to be “Strong Independent Black Women” who don’t need men, copying feminism from white women who themselves know that Black men need their respect and honor.

I will be damned if I ever listen to motivational quotes of single black women.

So that is my reply to my Chihera Zimbabwean sister who asked me what it is she has to do to win the eye of the King as she wishes to join the House Of Offeh as his third wife.

Some Zimbabwean women jubilated that a “Chihera” Zimbabwean woman will come into my territory and raffle my feathers after I announced the King is searching for a third Zimbabwean wife for his own gratification and purpose

But they are the foolish women, who represent the five foolish virgins described by Christ, the Bridegroom will never wait upon them…

You have to be wise like the woman who wrote to me. You have to be ready for drastic change. You have to be ready to obey him. You have to be ready to let go off your Zimbabwean past, your pagan Kemet and Canaanite culture and gods…which is basically the religion of Zimbabwe, but they call it culture…

And that goes to any Zimbabwean woman sitting there in her chambers wishing and thinking she can come and control things in the King’s Harem… Nino is not some Zimbabwean man you can give voodoo or mupfuhwira to charm him as Zimbabwean women do to their men which is one of their specialties, bewitching their husbands as one Mudiwa Cookie Lyon, a Facebook Celebrity Zimbabwean voodoo specialist openly boasts about, teaching Zimbabwean women how to charm their husbands in the diaspora and turn them into Zombies.

But my King can never be charmed, this is the anointed of God we are talking about, with his eye he will able to see through your Canaanite voodoo. Lipstick Alley people will say Nino has juju but he ain’t got no juju, he is simply anointed. No woman, especially one from Zimbabwe can ever reign over him or his Queen.

It will never happen…

The Genesis Of The Revelation By

Mary-Tamar was Jean

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