The Lobola Curse: Inside the Bizarre Four-Year Marital Collapse of Blessing Togarepi
MUTARE – In the quiet suburbs of Mutare, where the mist often clings to the Eastern Highlands, a man named Blessing Togarepi sits in a state of profound bewilderment. At first glance, Togarepi appears to be the embodiment of the Zimbabwean dream: a self-made mining consultant who rose from the hardships of orphanhood to build a career through grit and prayer. Yet, behind the professional exterior lies a personal history so turbulent that it has left traditional leaders and legal experts alike scratching their heads.
In the span of just six years, Blessing Togarepi has entered into four marriages. All four have collapsed. The longest lasted a mere fourteen days. The shortest ended before the wedding decorations could even be taken down. It is a pattern of marital failure that has cost him tens of thousands of dollars in lobola (bride price) payments and left him questioning whether he is the victim of a series of unfortunate coincidences or a targeted spiritual vendetta.
The Breaking Point: The Aisha Lulu Chihota Case
The most recent chapter in Togarepi’s saga began on June 6, 2026. Seeking stability after three previous failures, he turned to Aisha Lulu Chihota. Aisha presented herself as a student pastor at St James United Methodist Church in Dangamvura, a background that Togarepi, a devout man, found deeply reassuring.
“I believe in doing the right things and I believe in marrying through the right channels,” Togarepi explained in an exclusive interview. He followed those channels to the letter, paying US$3,500 in lobola to Aisha’s family.
However, the union never progressed past the exchange of cash. On the very day the lobola was paid, the marriage effectively ended. According to Togarepi, as soon as the transaction was complete, Aisha’s relatives claimed she had suddenly fallen ill. They insisted she was unable to go with her new husband and promised she would join him at his home once she had recovered.
She never did.
When Togarepi attempted to follow up, accompanied by his sister Rosemary Togarepi and Nickson Matanda, the reception was anything but welcoming. “We were chased away from the house,” he recalled. It was during this confrontation that the situation took a turn into the supernatural. Togarepi claims Aisha began “manifesting”—a term used in Zimbabwean charismatic Christianity to describe a person being overtaken by a spirit.
“On the same day, she started manifesting. Shave raibuda richiti ndirikudei pamusha pano,” Togarepi said. “The manifestation was scary because chaitotaura kuti why did you make my wife get married? The spirit then threatened me that once I get married, it will destroy everything.”
Respecting what he calls “the protocols”—specifically his belief in no sex before marriage—Togarepi had not yet slept with Aisha. He turned to prayer to “cast the demons,” but the marriage was already dead in the water. The dispute eventually reached the court of Chief Mutasa, who, after hearing the evidence, ordered Aisha’s relatives to return the US$3,500 lobola by August 31.
A Trail of Broken Vows
To understand Togarepi’s current despair, one must look back at the trail of wreckage that preceded the Aisha incident. The cycle began in 2020 with Anita Nyoni. Togarepi, then working in mining consultancy and selling claims, married Anita through all the traditional channels, paying US$9,200.
The marriage lasted five days.
The collapse occurred after the couple attended an evening prayer session. “While at the church, she manifested, acting like a snake in the presence of the church members,” Togarepi claimed. “She then confessed that she was a sangoma.” In the fallout of the manifestation, Togarepi went to work at a mine; when he returned, Anita was gone. Her mother allegedly began threatening him, accusing him of wanting to kill her daughter.
Undeterred, Togarepi tried again in 2021. He met Natasha Chamisa and, perhaps hoping that a larger investment would yield a more stable return, paid a staggering US$18,000 in lobola. They had a lavish wedding, the kind that usually signals the start of a lifelong partnership.
It lasted two weeks.
The signs of trouble appeared early. Togarepi recalls a harrowing incident where Natasha began manifesting while they were driving to a church in Chitungwiza. “She tried opening the door while the car was moving,” he said. “She insulted me… she acted like a victim, yet she had insulted me kuti I was a weak man.”
Natasha, who was pregnant at the time, eventually left without providing a clear reason. Today, they share a son, whom Togarepi sees twice every two weeks, a small consolation in a sea of domestic disappointment.
The third marriage followed a similar, albeit less expensive, script. He married Purity Kufakwenyika, paying US$1,000 in lobola. Like Anita before her, Purity lasted only five days before the union dissolved.
“What surprises me, when all these women leave, they don’t take money, and they leave the money,” Togarepi noted, a detail that adds a layer of mystery to the departures. If these were simple “lobola scams” designed to fleece a wealthy man, one might expect the brides to take whatever they could carry. Instead, they simply vanish.
The Legal and Cultural Quagmire
Togarepi’s case highlights a growing tension in Zimbabwe between traditional customs and modern legal protections. The payment of lobola remains a cornerstone of Zimbabwean culture, viewed as a way to unite two families. However, as Togarepi has discovered, it can also be a source of immense financial and emotional risk.
Legal experts point to the landmark High Court case of Mangwende v Machodo as a potential turning point for men in Togarepi’s position. In that case, the court ruled that a husband is entitled to a full refund of lobola if the marriage collapses shortly after payment due to a material breach—such as adultery or, as in the Aisha case, a refusal to actually enter into the marriage.
Yet, for Togarepi, the legal victory at Chief Mutasa’s court is a cold comfort. The financial loss is significant—totalling over US$31,000 across the four marriages—but the psychological toll is heavier. Following the collapse of the Aisha marriage, Togarepi admitted to contemplating suicide.
“All these things happening in my life are making me lose my peace because I no longer understand who cursed me because marriage for me is not working,” he said. “I grew up as an orphan and I was looked after by my relatives. That motivated me to work hard to be who I am today… I am now doing mining consultancy and the way I love to pray has helped me.”
The “Spiritual Husband” Phenomenon
In Zimbabwe, Togarepi’s experiences are often viewed through a spiritual lens. The “manifestations” he describes — the snake-like movements of Anita Nyoni and the “shave” spirit of Aisha Chihota — are familiar tropes in the country’s religious landscape.
Many traditionalists and members of charismatic churches believe in the concept of “spiritual husbands” or “spiritual wives”—unseen entities that claim ownership over a person and sabotage any attempt at a human marriage. The threat made by the spirit in the Aisha case — “that once I get married, it will destroy everything” — is a classic example of this belief system in action.
Critics, however, suggest a more earthly explanation. They argue that the high cost of lobola has turned marriage into a business transaction, where families might be tempted to “marry off” daughters to wealthy suitors like Togarepi, only for the brides to rebel or flee once the pressure becomes unbearable.
A Man in Search of Peace
As the August 31 deadline for the refund of Aisha’s lobola approaches, Blessing Togarepi remains a man caught between two worlds. He is a modern professional who uses the legal system to seek justice, yet he is also a man deeply embedded in a culture where spiritual curses and manifestations are treated as objective realities.
For now, he continues to work in his mining consultancy, finding solace in the hard work that allowed him to rise from his humble beginnings as an orphan. But the question remains: is he a man cursed by spirits, or simply a man who has had the monumental misfortune of picking the wrong partners in a system that offers little protection for the groom’s heart—or his wallet?
“I have been in four marriages,” Togarepi reflects, his voice tinged with a weariness that belies his relatively young age. He has followed the rules, paid the prices, and respected the protocols. Yet, in the end, he is left with little more than court orders and a haunting question that prayer has yet to answer.
The story of Blessing Togarepi is more than just a tale of failed romance; it is a stark look at the complexities of modern Zimbabwean life, where the ancient and the contemporary collide in the most personal of ways. Whether he will ever find the stable, God-fearing marriage he seeks remains to be seen. For now, the “Mining Consultant” is still searching for a claim that won’t disappear as soon as the price is paid.