The First Chapter Of the Meghan Markle Book, And Why Omid Scobie Paid My Husband Six Figures To Destroy The Book

I know so many people call me crazy, but right now I have nothing to lose, nothing. I have lost my Lord husband, the only man I ever loved. I am going through a fiery fire, like the mother of Dragons the fire is fierce and consuming, but I refuse to burn. I am a woman in distress, so scorned and abandoned. I lost my dearest Papa, I have not one member of a family I can talk to, so forgive me my dear readers for being Jean Gasho, but how can I not be Jean, when to be or not to be I am equally condemned in a public court.

I am a woman lonely, grieving and condemned by a public court.

Only my Daddy believed me, he believed in my pen. I am speaking the truth when I say my Lord husband was paid a six figure sum by Omid Scobie to destroy my Meghan Markle book. My husband is denying this truth and calling me MAD and delusional, but this is my TRUTH. I saw messages. I know my Daddy wherever he is believes me.

I know Papa is watching over me…

I am hurt and angry, because my Lord husband deleted over 120 thousand words of my book, hard work, sweat and sleepless nights. All gone just like that.

The King of the North did what he was paid to do…

I’m crying as I write this because this book was supposed to be my big break. I am left with the first chapter which was in my email for proof reading.

I write this essay crying…

So with nothing left to gain or lose, as Esther went before the King and said if I die I die, if my hand and pen is the end of me, let it be.

If my hand be my fall, let it be…

Today I release that first Chapter on my blog, that’s all that’s left of the book. I had done 21 of 25 chapters, based on the LIES told by Meghan Markle which paralleled my story and how she had used her white privilege to claim black suffering when women like me are condemned for the same things she was praised for. That was the theme of the book, Meghan’s story versus mine, and how she appropriated the suffering of a black woman.

So my dear readers…here is the First and Last Chapter of the book that was never meant to be, Meghan’s gods did fight for her, I raise my hat off to her…the book was to be titled The Black Lies Of Meghan Markle. I honestly didn’t bother revising the chapter, there will be grammar and spelling errors, it’s not proof read either, I have just released the raw manuscript…

Chapter  One.  The Secret Wedding Lie

Fact: On 7 March 2021 in an Oprah Winfrey Interview broadcasted to the four corners of the world, watched by over a billion people, Meghan Markle blatantly LIED that in May 2018, three days before her royal wedding, she and Prince Harry had gotten married in a secret ceremony in their backyard, with  the Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby officiating the private garden marriage.

“You know three days before our wedding we got married. No one knows that, but we called the Archbishop and we just said, ‘look, this thing, this spectacle, is for the world, but we want our union to be between us’.” Meghan told Oprah, knowing that this information would cause shockwaves throughout the world. She knew that she was lying, on a global stage, yet she still went ahead and told this unnecessary lie, knowing that it was going to be fact checked and proven to be a lie.

Whist black people didn’t see her secret wedding lie as a big deal, to me that first lie she boldly told in her Oprah Interview, without any care or fear of any consequences was the moment I realized that Meghan had actually stolen the pain and struggle of the real black woman. I saw her secret wedding lie as the first black lie she told. I saw her lie as cruelly deceptive and manipulative with an agenda of wanting to appeal to the world, especially to black people as down to earth and authentic. She lied because she wanted people to see her as the woman who had an expensive royal wedding that she didn’t even want. She wanted to give this sudden picture that all she cared about was a private marriage ceremony with her Prince in the Palace backyard. She now wanted to spin this authentic down to earth image about herself two years after she had cost over £30 million of British tax-payers money on her royal wedding. Now suddenly she was saying she didn’t even want that ‘spectacle’ in the first place, she was happy with a no official garden ceremony with no audience in her back-yard!

Yet it was her very privilege of marrying into the British Royal Family (BRF) that even gave her the platform to sit with Oprah and blatantly lie that she had a secret wedding so black people could idolise her for it. I see Meghan Markle as a woman who is more dangerous in society than any members of the British Royal family, present or historic. It’s the fact that she uses deception to model herself into some Mother Theresa of black people. It’s one thing to have your story stolen from you before you even get to tell it. But it’s another to survive such an ordeal, then have your survival  story stolen before your very eyes by a person who claims to be one of you, when in fact they are not.

Isn’t it extraordinary that Meghan Markle was able to lie just like that about her wedding, knowing that the lie would be found out anyway. Meghan was able to fearlessly lie to the world because but she knew her interview would generate enough uproar from black people in the peak season of the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement.  Meghan knew that black people would support her anyway, whether she was lying or not. Meghan knew that her lies would bear no consequences whatsoever, exposed or not. She had found her niche, a multitude of people, a race which was at the very bottom of social hierarchy, a people who would cling to anything superior that would appear to vindicate them.

In her bombshell Oprah interview where she told at least 15 proven lies, Meghan Markle knew that there was an entire race of people who would see her interview as an answer to all their prayers about racism and inequality. Meghan knew that when all was said and done, it didn’t really matter that she lied, because she had an army of people who thought even her lies were an act of God’s intervention on behalf of the black race. Black people thought that her lies were some sort of vengeance on the BRF. I had never seen such collective excitement coming from black people. I had never seen such a spirit of feeling vindicated among people of my race.  To them Meghan was taking down the BRF, and that was all that mattered. To them Meghan had been so brave and bold to show white British people and the BRF that she didn’t even want their stupid royal wedding in the first place. Yet it was that royal wedding that made black women across the world even cry, that alas at last there was now a black woman in the royal family. 

To them Meghan was one of them; she was a black woman who had married into the most privileged and powerful family in the world today. The truth didn’t matter to black people, even if she had lied about the secret marriage, so what.  But her lies about her so called secret garden marriage may not have mattered to black people, in fact her lies may have been some sort of vindication against the BRF, yet to me her lies were a betrayal of my skin colour and the things I had gone through I life because of it. Her lies about her so called private wedding reminded me that I was a black woman, so black I didn’t have the privilege of having a private marriage ceremony then talking openly about it.

What really shocked me was that after her lies were exposed by the Archbishop of Canterbury when he was forced to deny that he had conducted a secret garden marriage prior to the couple’s royal wedding, was the fact that black people actually went on to defend Meghan Markle’s lies.

In the aftermath of her lies, after British tabloids actually obtained Meghan and Harry’s marriage certificate which was indeed signed by the couple on the 19th of May, Meghan was then forced to take back her lies and a statement was released through the couple’s spokesperson which read, “The couple exchanged personal vows a few days before their official/legal wedding on May 19.”

What actually hurt me as a black woman, was that I saw black people, black people whom I knew on social media go out of their way to defend the “private wedding lie”.  I saw black people go out o their way to claim that whatever Meghan and Harry had in their back garden three days before the royal wedding was the real deal to them. They claimed that Meghan had not actually lied, because to her, the secret vows was indeed her definition of the actual act of marrying her husband Harry.

I tried to make sense of it but I couldn’t. I looked at Meghan and saw a woman who was stealing from my pain and struggle as a black woman, yet she was the one getting all the glory and admiration of what it meant to be a strong black woman. I couldn’t understand why and how Meghan Markle could be glorified by black people for the very things I was not only laughed at by the same black people who were glorifying her, but mercilessly cyber bullied for. Because of how black and African I was, I was not allowed to openly speak about the same things Meghan had said without the risk of being called insane and worse.

As a black woman who had always written everything about my life on my blogs, to mostly a black Zimbabwean audience, my life was nothing but a laughing stock to the  black people who followed my blogs. I would sit down and write an essay about something that I thought was absolutely beautiful about my life, and worthy of testifying, but I was never received, but rather I would be mocked and laughed at, in a way that was not only derogatory, but cruel.

I watched the same black people who would normally laugh at me on social media praise Meghan’s secret private wedding, as I was taken back to my own story about my very own private secret wedding in the park in the summer of 2015. What was very painful for me about Meghan’s private wedding lie was not only that she was able to lie and be defended for lying, but she was praised and applauded by the same people who laughed at me for the very thing that she lied about.

Whilst Meghan did not have any private marriage ceremony in her backyard because she didn’t even need it, I actually did. I had a private marriage ceremony because I needed it, because of where I was in life at that time, a private ceremony meant the world to me. Whist Meghan had the honour and privilege to lie to the world that she and Harry married privately, in a garden, I had shared the raw truth about my private ceremony to my black audience on my blog as a testimony of God’s goodness on my humble life, but what I got was nothing but mockery and accusations of being “a mentally disturbed black woman who thought a private secret marriage in the park could actually be classed as a valid ‘marriage’.”

Unlike Meghan, I did actually have a private wedding ceremony in a park/garden in front of our terraced council house. For years, I wrote about that day on my blogs, because it really was a magical day for me.

Unlike the lies of Meghan Markle, I had no fancy palace back garden, rather my private wedding ceremony was in an enclosed public park/garden. My white flowers were basically shrubs which were picked by my daughter from a Cherry Blossom tree. Actually the wedding was not even planned, on that day I was taking a stroll with my partner who had visited me from Ghana, and had been in the country for a few months. He had become my world, though he had moved into my house, we had not even slept together. As we walked in the park on the 21st of June 2015, a Father’s day Sunday, my daughter ran to me with what looked like a majestic wedding bouquet she had picked from a tree.

“Mum here, for your wedding.” She said to me as she handed me the stunning flowers. I remember feeling emotional when she handed me the flowers, they looked so perfect, and in front of me was the man the Lord had literally brought into my life to take away my reproach as a black single mother. That day I was so happy, so in love, and my children were happy that their mother wasn’t crying anymore, or going to court to fight for their custody.  It was the perfect moment, the weather was sunny and there was no stranger in sight. It was as though God had closed the park, and it became our own secret garden.

So I turned to my husband to be and said, “Let’s get married, now. I’ve got the flowers!”

In my heart I wasn’t thinking pretend wedding, or something silly. Yes it was very spur of the moment moments, but I meant every word, I wanted to get married in the park, at that very moment, to the man who had crossed the oceans, literally to just be with me.

“Okay.” He smiled coolly.

“Really. You want to get married to me in the park?” I asked him.

“Yes, why not. Let’s do it.” He commanded.

I literally had a few minutes to organise my wedding. It was one of those moments, so private, so simple, yet I felt like I was really getting married. It felt so real. I imagined the wedding I had always dreamt of. I imagined millions of people watching me. I was so emotional I almost cried.

Unlike Meghan’s lies, I had no Archbishop of Cantebury to officiate my wedding vows. My first child and daughter, Nakai who was only 10 years old at that time officiated the ceremony. My son Shingi-Dave who was only 7 years at that time walked me down the garden path, and gave me away to my new husband, Lord Kofi Nino, who was standing under a tree, smiling at me as I was led too him by my first-born little son.  My second son Kunashe who was only 6 years at that time took the photographs, and boy he captured the moments naturally like he was a professional wedding photographer. My baby Fadzai who was barely a year old was the only sitting guest in her buggy, giggling away.

It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. We said our vows, I pledged to obey and submit to my husband for the rest of my earthly life, whilst he pledged to love and cherish me for the rest of our earthy lives, for better for worse. There was no rings of course, but my daughter joined our hands together, and pronounced us man and wife.

“You may kiss the bride.” She said to her new stepfather.

We kissed and my little son captured that moment magically.

The children jumped up and down with joy once the ceremony was done, and they all came to hug me and congratulated me.

From that moment, Kofi Nino became my husband in every way a husband becomes a husband to a woman. We went home that night, and he told me that what had happened was spirit led that we had actually gotten married. I still had pictures of my ex-husband in albums in the garage, that day I took all his pictures and burnt them. For the first time, Kofi Nino called me his wife. From that day, even my Daddy started to say, “your husband” when he was referring to my lord husband. Once my Daddy started professing that the man I was living with was indeed my husband, I knew that what God had joined, no man could separate. I was officially a married woman.

As a traditional woman, who sees the world differently to how everything is programmed today, I understood that marriage meant something totally different to God, than what it means to men today. In biblical times no one signed a marriage certificate. In biblical times white weddings as we know them today didn’t even exist. In biblical times it was the father who had the authority to bless and give away his daughter, and marriage simply meant a covenant or agreement where a man took possession of a woman.

So I took to my blogs and shared with pride and joy about my secret garden wedding day. As a black woman I spoke about a private garden exchange of vows way before a Meghan Markle was ever known. I spoke about my struggles as a single mother of 4 children, and how much my garden private wedding meant so much to me. The only difference was that black people accepted Meghan’s version of a private wedding ceremony, mine was rejected, even though I had pictures and a testimony to back it.

One of the biggest black gossip forums Lipstick Alley ran a thread about me on their Net Famous columns were they mercilessly laughed at me for having a wedding in the park. They pronounced me deranged and in need of serious mental health evaluation and treatment.  They posted my garden wedding pictures and laughed at them. They said I stole the flowers from some white person’s back garden. They said my husband was an egoistic maniac who didn’t even have the decency or money to actually marry me because he knew I was ‘mental’ so he chose to mock me by having a pretend play wedding in a park officiated by a 10 year old child, and I didn’t even notice that the joke was on me.

For years, Zimbabweans on the other hand would laugh and dispute my claims that I was actually married to my husband. They said I was “chayaring mapoto” with my husband, a derogatory term used in Zimbabwe to shame women who elope and end up living with men who were not actually their husbands. Each time I posted pictures of me and my husband, I would be constantly reminded by black Zimbabweans that he wasn’t my husband. They would call me a “mad woman” as they reminded me over and over that what happened in the park was something equivalent to children playing pretend play, they would say my “wedding” was even worse because at least children will actually have even plastic rings for pretend weddings. But all I said was ‘stolen flowers’ they would say.

So my dear reader, imagine my shock and pain at watching black people in their thousands, applaud Meghan Markle for having her own “secret wedding” in the back garden of Kensington Palace. As the mainstream media disputed Meghan’s claims and actually proved that she had lied, that what she called a secret private ceremony was actually wedding rehearsals, imagine my pain as I watched people who abused and bullied me for years for having a private marriage ceremony now defend Meghan Markle, saying to her, this was her truth. Imagine my pain as I saw the same people who bullied me now define marriage as something more than having a church wedding or signing a paper just because of Meghan Marke. Oh the hypocrisy and irony!

It was the same black people who had bullied me for saying my marriage was more than just a white wedding and a marriage certificate, who were now using what I had always maintained to now claim that Meghan Markle had indeed married Harry in a secret wedding.

Imagine my pain, watching black people say it didn’t matter if the world didn’t approve of what Meghan and Harry saw as “marriage”. I saw black people in their multitude on social media, in Facebook black groups claim that yes indeed, big royal wedding was just a spectacle, but what mattered was to Meghan and Harry, the real wedding to them had been the secret garden ceremony where they exchanged their vows in front of the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Imagine my pain as a black woman, watching a woman who looked white and had married a rich white man  from the most privileged family in the world be praised  by black people for being “true to herself as a black woman by having her own authentic marriage ceremony of her own standards.” Yet I was the real black woman who had actually done that, got married in a private garden ceremony, but I had received not only abuse for it, but I had been labelled deranged for it.

Whilst my secret garden wedding was the TRUTH which was vilified by black people, Meghan’s secret garden wedding was the LIE which was praised by black people.

I want you to know my dear reader that Meghan Markle can actually afford to lie about things that a blue black woman like me can never say as the TRUTH, and for that reason alone I pen this book.  

Mary-Tamar was Jean, the lost book that was meant to not be…

7 thoughts on “The First Chapter Of the Meghan Markle Book, And Why Omid Scobie Paid My Husband Six Figures To Destroy The Book

  1. There is hope for you, Jean. God is close to the broken-hearted (Psalm 34:18). He can help you navigate through these tough times (if you let him). Warmly in my thoughts and prayers.


  2. Thinking of you and keeping you in my prayers. It’s a tough season but if you put your faith in God and let fully him into your situation, He will help you through. Good things will also come out of it.


  3. I had a hard drive crash about halfway through my own book– lost about 60,000 words. The first thing you should do is start making notes of everything you remember about what you lost. You’ll be surprised at what you remember and what you re-write will be better the second time.

    The second thing you need to do is store your files remotely. You can use cloud storage but I would also use a couple of jump drives, backing them up once a month or so and hiding one at home and one with a trusted friend or relative. You can get jump drives that will fit on the tip of your finger, and they can be hidden in the lining of a wallet or beneath the insole of a shoe you don’t wear very often.

    It’s devastating to have something like this happen, but if you rewrite while your memory is fresh you can recapture a lot of it if not most.


  4. I have read the first chapter, it’s very interesting and well thought. She writes from her heart more and what she writes is more meaningful and powerful. Jean needs to concentrate in her positive energy and abilities. People will always say things they will always be people. What’s important for Jean is to remember who she is and to continue to bieve in herself and what she believes in. Don’t worry about what people say or think, learn to wear thick skin like a crocodile.

    Jeans story is a unique story but what’s good about her is her bravery which I think most eople find intimidating. My advice is continue to be who u are and what u believe in. U can’t change the way people think. Well done for your achievements and I think you should re write your book. I can’t wait to buy and read it.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Jean – I misjudged you, when I didn’t have the right to judge you at all. Only our God has that right and I am sorry. You are a very unique and talented woman. Please do not let this stop you. I’ve never read anything so perspicacious about such a complicated & confusing drama.

    Your voice as a woman and a black person deserves to be heard just as much as hers. Your experiences, feelings, struggles, dreams matter just as much. It’s awful how women tear each other down & it’s especially awful how black Americans tear down their own people, no matter where in the world they are.

    You wrote the book once, you can write it again. Think of it as the second draft. Don’t listen to those awful women who are clearly deranged. And don’t trust any family members of Harry’s wife, I think money talks & they are definitely willing to accept money from her to silence anyone who tries to share the truth. Don’t give up.


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