I have always tried hard not to comment publicly on the private lives of people I know no matter the temptation.
When controversies involving people like Natasha and Akpabio arose both of whom I know personally, I deliberately kept my silence.
Those who know me understand why: if I ever decide to speak, I say things exactly as they are, not to please any side. And that honesty, more often than not, offends one party if not both.
In a society where truth has lost its worth, I have chosen not to make new enemies simply for speaking mine.
But in the case of my senator, Ned Nwoko, and his young wife, Regina Daniels, I must break that silence not because I enjoy meddling in private affairs, but because this entire episode has become unnecessary, undignified, and frankly, disappointing.
Senator Nwoko’s recent public accusation that Regina has become a “drug addict” was ill-advised and unworthy of a man of his age, influence, and intellect.
His lamentation in public made him appear not as a strong husband seeking help, but as a man who has lost control of his home.
If indeed his wife has fallen into such habits, one must ask: where was he when it began? Was he not the one in whose care she was expected to grow, flourish, and mature?
If he married her when there was no known problem, then something must have changed and clearly under his watch.
To accuse her publicly is to confess failure privately. When a man of Ned’s stature cannot manage his household and then drags it to the town square for discussion, he invites ridicule, not sympathy.
This is not Ned Nwoko’s first marriage. He is an experienced husband, with other wives who have not publicly embarrassed him.
So, if Regina’s situation has now become a national spectacle, perhaps he needs to ask himself whether wife number four has tested the limits of his wisdom and patience.
When he chose Regina Daniels, a young actress, a woman from the entertainment world, was he unaware of the lifestyle and baggage that come with that terrain?
The scrutiny, the emotional swings, the youthful rebellion, and, yes, the temptations of nightlife and indulgence? He saw all that, yet went ahead to marry her.
You cannot marry youth and fame, then act surprised when they come with consequences.
Regina was a girl in her early twenties when Ned married her, a public figure constantly under pressure to maintain her image in an industry that thrives on attention and appearances.
What she needed was maturity, patience, and quiet guidance, not public exposure or humiliation.
Frankly, the senator is lucky the young woman hasn’t broken down completely, or worse, succumbed to the crushing weight of public judgment.
The pressures of fame alone can destroy many; to add marital conflict and public accusations to that mix is to throw her to the wolves.
We men all face challenges at home. Every single one of us. But when a man makes his domestic troubles public, it signals one of two things: either pride has overtaken wisdom, or he has lost control of the situation.
Whatever the case, Ned should have handled this matter privately. A man’s strength is not measured by how loudly he complains, but by how quietly he resolves.
He should have shielded his wife, even if she had erred, and dealt with her in private.
To expose her weakness is to expose his own. A husband’s grace is not tested when all is well, but when things fall apart.
In this instance, both his silence and his restraint would have served him far better and preserved the dignity of his name.
So, yes, I say it again: Ned Nwoko should never have gone public.
Daniel Wilson (Mr. Ragamuffin), is a renowned musician and business man.
