GREEDY Wife BURIED Her HUSBAND ALIVE So She Can MARRY A RICH MAN — But Her Secret Was Exposed

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The Mechanic’s Revenge: Betrayal and the Bride Who Buried Her Past Alive

 

The air in the small sitting room was thick and still. The ceiling fan, which rattled loudly but stirred no air, was silent—the power had gone out again. Amaka sat on an old wooden chair, sweat running down her face. The tiny apartment smelled faintly of engine oil.

Her husband, Uche, was a mechanic. He was tall, dark, and gentle, always coming home with grease-stained hands and a tired smile. Every evening, he would place his calloused hands on her shoulder and say, “Don’t worry, Amaka. One day things will get better.”

But Amaka was exhausted by that sentence. She had heard it too many times. Every time her friends posted pictures from Dubai, flaunting luxury she could only dream of, her heart burned with envy. She was tired of the kerosene lamp, tired of the small apartment, tired of being Uche’s wife, the mechanic’s wife.

That evening, Uche came home proudly holding a receipt for a new, small refrigerator he had managed to save enough money to buy.

“My love, see what I got! At least now you can keep drinks cold,” he beamed.

Amaka didn’t smile. “Uche, is this what will change our lives? A fridge? Do you know what Chioma posted today? Her husband bought her a car!”

Uche sighed, the familiar hurt in his eyes. “Amaka, wealth doesn’t come in one day. I’m trying my best.”

“Your best is not enough!” she snapped.

That night, as Uche snored peacefully beside her, Amaka scrolled through her phone. She saw a picture of Chief Ebuka, a rich businessman, and whispered a dangerous thought: “Maybe I married the wrong man.”

The Lie is Born

 

The following weekend, Amaka went to a big wedding, determined to hunt. She wore a fitted gold gown, carefully applied makeup, and a borrowed wig. She looked expensive.

She spotted Chief Ebuka—tall, confident, and wearing an agbada that looked richer than Uche’s entire workshop. When he sat near her table, Amaka quickly fixed her posture and spoke into her phone in a fake British accent, pretending to be an important, busy woman.

Her plan worked. Chief Ebuka noticed her. They talked throughout the wedding about his business, his house in Banana Island, and his travels. When he asked about her life, Amaka played the tragic heroine.

“Well, I’m a widow,” she said quietly, pretending to fight back tears. “My husband died two years ago. It’s been hard, but I’m trying to move on.”

Chief Ebuka’s face softened. “I’m so sorry, my dear. You’re too young to have gone through such pain.”

Before he left, he gave her his card. “Call me anytime, Amaka. You deserve happiness again.”

Amaka hid the card inside her Bible. She knew the path she had just stepped on would lead to a lie so big it would destroy everything she ever had.

Days turned into weeks of secret dates. Chief Ebuka bought her new clothes and money. Each time he asked about her late husband, she cried on cue. Then came the ultimate demand: Chief Ebuka wanted to marry her, but he needed to confirm her husband’s death officially.

That night, Amaka lay awake staring at Uche. She knew she couldn’t live two lives. Uche needs to die so she can live the life she wanted. A dark, terrible idea entered her mind. “If Uche must die for me to live, then so be it.”

 

Buried Alive

 

Amaka acted like the loving wife Uche thought she was, preparing his favorite meal: pounded yam and egusi soup. But she had mixed an overdose of sleeping pills into his drink.

As Uche happily ate, talking about his plans to open his own workshop next year, his words became slow. “I’m so tired tonight,” he murmured.

Amaka held his hand gently. “Sleep, my love. Just sleep.”

When he passed out, she called a bike man she had secretly arranged. They carried the unconscious Uche into a sack bag and drove to an abandoned building outside town—a place where no one ever visited. The bikeman helped her drag Uche’s body inside.

For a long moment, she just stood there, staring at the motionless man she had promised to love forever. She dropped his wedding ring beside him.

“I’m sorry, Uche,” she whispered, but “I can’t stay poor forever.”

She told herself he wouldn’t wake up, or if he did, he would die of starvation, or the wild animals would finish him.

Meanwhile, in the darkness, Uche slowly regained consciousness. His head pounded, and his body ached. He was lying on a dusty cement floor in a derelict building. His mind was foggy, but he remembered Amaka’s last gentle smile.

“Why would she bring me here?” he whispered, then the realization hit him with a sharp, breaking pain. She wanted me dead.

He spent the rest of the night too weak to walk. By morning, a local farmer found him, barely alive. Uche told the farmer everything: “My wife, she left me here to die.”

The kind farmer took Uche to his small village home, cleaned his wounds, and fed him. Slowly, Uche regained his strength, but his heart was shattered.

“If God saved me from death,” he told the old couple, “then he saved me for a reason. Amaka must see me again alive.”

 

The Wedding Day Revelation

 

Amaka didn’t look back. Weeks later, she was officially engaged to Chief Ebuka. The wedding was planned to be the grandest event of the year, held at a prestigious hotel in Lagos. Amaka was radiant, dressed in a designer white gown, her face glowing beneath expensive makeup. She had achieved her dream.

On the wedding day, luxury cars lined the venue. The hall was filled with hundreds of wealthy, important guests. Amaka walked down the aisle, a triumphant smile frozen on her face, ready to become Mrs. Ebuka and step into her life of endless wealth.

But just as the officiating pastor began the final prayer, the double doors of the hall burst open.

A man stood in the doorway. He was tall, thin, and wore cheap, ill-fitting clothes. His face was gaunt, but his eyes burned with an unsettling clarity. His hands, though clean, were rough, and a faint, residual smell of engine oil seemed to cling to him.

The wedding hall fell into a stunned silence. Amaka’s triumphant smile dissolved into sheer terror.

“Uche!” she screamed, the name echoing through the hall.

It was her dead husband.

Uche walked slowly down the aisle, his eyes fixed only on Amaka. The wedding guests parted for him, murmuring in shock and fear.

Chief Ebuka, confused and angry, stepped forward. “Who is this man? Security!”

“He’s not a security risk, Chief,” Uche said, his voice deep and steady. “I’m the groom.”

He stopped directly in front of Amaka. “Hello, Amaka. Did you miss me? You forgot to check the coffin, my love.”

Amaka tried to speak, but only an incoherent sound escaped.

Uche then spoke to the shocked audience, his voice carrying clearly: “This woman standing here, this beautiful bride, drugged me, put me in a sack, and left me to die in an abandoned building so she could steal my life and marry money. She told the world I was dead two years ago. I am here to tell you: The man she buried is alive, and he is standing at her wedding.”

Chaos erupted. Chief Ebuka, realizing the depth of the deception, recoiled from Amaka in disgust. Guests began shouting.

The police, who had been alerted earlier by Uche’s new family, arrived moments later. Uche produced the final piece of evidence: his melted wedding ring, which he had found at the abandoned site.

Amaka collapsed in her white gown, clutching her face, her dream shattered in the most public and humiliating way possible. She was arrested for attempted murder and fraud, her greed exposed in the middle of the luxury she craved.

Uche, the poor mechanic, stood tall, his heart broken, but his life restored. He hadn’t just survived; he had returned to expose the lie and reclaim his truth.

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