Why 'The Polygamist' Became Africa’s Biggest Conversation

Jonasi Gomora is currently one of Africa’s most debated and hated men. A wealthy, self-made businessman, he rose from the township of Soweto to a life of luxury in Johannesburg, South Africa, and has built a thriving business empire and what appears to be a perfect family with his wife, Joyce, and their two children. Beneath this polished image, however, Jonasi secretly juggles multiple wives and mistresses, leading a complex life that ultimately leads to his death.

The Gomoras are at the centre of Netflix’s new TV series, 'The Polygamist', released in June to overwhelming success of more than 27 million views globally. 'I’ll own being the most hated man on Netflix until they give me another show,' joked South African actor S’dumo Mtshali, who portrays Jonasi Gomora, in an interview with CNN.

Rather than presenting Africa through stereotypes, 'The Polygamist' offers a nuanced portrait of contemporary South Africa that is culturally specific yet emotionally universal, says Dr Kimmera Pillay, a senior lecturer in the Department of English at North-West University, South Africa, during a Zoom interview. Her 2023 scholarly analysis of Zimbabwean author Sue Nyathi’s novel under the same name preceded its Netflix adaptation. 

The Limits of Choice

On one level, the series follows a polygamist who manipulates the language of Zulu tradition and customary marriage to justify his self-destructive desires. On another, it also serves as an allegory for South Africa’s post-apartheid middle class, tracing the moral downfall of a wealthy businessman under the weight of greed, corruption, and betrayal.

The universal question the premise invites, 'Why does a woman stay?', is one the series complicates rather than answers. Joyce, played by Gugu Gumede, discovers a second wife and decides not to leave but to play the hand she has. During the interview, Dr Pillay resisted reading Joyce's actions as consent. 'Her decisions were shaped by love, family expectation, economic dependence and patriarchal structures that narrow what she can choose', she said. Jonasi, meanwhile, is portrayed as a narcissistic and controlling man whose manipulation drives the story.

The problem that the series poses, she adds, is not merely one of a specific African tradition but the 'selective use of tradition to legitimise unequal power,' invoked to justify secrecy, control and unequal relationships. 

Nowhere is the abuse of tradition and Jonasi’s manipulations sharper than in the second marriage, to his childhood sweetheart Essie, adds Pillay. Zulu customary practice expects a man to secure the consent of his existing wives before taking another, and Jonasi assures Essie that Joyce was informed when she was not, keeping the authority of the custom while quietly dropping its one condition. 

A Tradition in Transition

'The Polygamist' blends English with the distinctive click consonants of isiZulu, showcasing the luxurious lifestyle of Johannesburg’s Black middle class with Zulu customary traditions such as Lobolo, the transfer of bridewealth that formalises a customary marriage. After Matipa secretly gives birth to their twins, Jonasi turns the affair into a customary marriage, making her his third wife.

Polygamy and Isithembu among the Zulu once converted cattle into labour, kin and standing: more wives meant more hands in the fields and more households tied to the husband,  according to Dr Pillay. Today, however, economic pressure has pushed the practice into decline. South Africa’s unemployment rate stands at 32.7%; roughly 23.2 million people live below the national poverty line, making the costs of Lobolo, weddings, and the maintenance of multiple households too expensive for all but the wealthiest men like Jonasi Gomora.

No one knows how common polygyny is in South Africa today. The last national estimates are more than two decades old and rest on surveys and what people were willing to report. The South African Demographic and Health Survey put the share of women in polygynous marriages at 6.8% in 1998, falling to 3.9% by 2003. A separate 2002 HIV household survey asked married women whether their husband had other wives: 8.3% said yes, with the highest proportions in Mpumalanga (19.7%), Limpopo (15.1%) and KwaZulu-Natal (13.8%), provinces linked to Swati, Shangaan and Zulu practice.

On screen, the prevalence of polygamy becomes less significant than the legal and moral questions it continues to raise. The sharpest example is the unequal legal standing of the wives: as customary marriages are legally valid regardless of their registration, many remain undocumented in official records.

What rights does each wife actually have when the marriage has never been registered? Jonasi dies of an HIV-related illness, and Joyce, the first wife and the only one formally recognised, is the one entitled to claim his body. According to Dr Pillay, disputes like these 'often arise over the legal status and rights of second, third, and fourth wives.'

Polygamy Meets the Palace

Jacob Zuma, South Africa’s former president, was the country’s first outspoken polygamist, married under Zulu customary law with three wives and 22 children. In a 2007 interview with 'The Times of London', he spoke about former politicians and their mistresses, who hid it to appear monogamous. 'I prefer to be open. I love my wives, and I’m proud of my children', he said, after having three wives and at least 20 children.

In March 2010, Zuma arrived for a state visit as a guest of Queen Elizabeth II. British media quickly turned the diplomatic visit into a spectacle. The Guardian wondered whether the 'distinctly monogamous monarch' would be uncomfortable hosting Zuma and his latest wife at Buckingham Palace. The Daily Mail denounced him as a 'vile buffoon,' a 'sex-obsessed bigot,' and even dismissed the Lobolo as 'a sort of tribal deposit on a future bride.' 

In South Africa, however, many interpreted the coverage as a revival of colonial attitudes towards African customs rather than a legitimate critique of polygamy.

Wives and Sisterhood

Sixteen years later, the Zumas are back in the argument from the other side: Jacob's daughters Gugu Zuma-Ncube and Thuli Zuma are the show's executive producers. Zuma-Ncube, who grew up in her father's polygamous household, told NPR's Weekend Edition that her childhood meant 'understanding the dynamics, being frustrated sometimes by a lot of it, but also trying to appreciate it for what it is and for the choices that people make.'

Through their insight, one of the series’ greatest triumphs was moving beyond the simplified Western view of polygamy and the assumption that all women in polygamous marriages are merely voiceless victims.  When Jonasi marries another wife, Joyce publicly takes control of the narrative, presenting the new arrangement on her own terms rather than allowing it to define her as humiliated or powerless. According to Dr Kimmera Pillay, Sue Nyathi’s original novel emphasised this perspective by centring the women’s narratives while largely silencing Jonasi’s own voice.

'The series portrays patriarchy, but it also shows how all the female characters use the resources available to them,' she said from a feminist perspective, 'That complexity is what made it so powerful'.

Though the women are not portrayed as victims, their resourcefulness runs into limits the series keeps in view. Esi takes Jonasi's monthly allowance, a house and a car, then runs a bar in Soweto and raises her children through his absences. Joyce - tactful, resourceful, eventually finishing her degree - built the business alongside him, yet he can still order her out of what he calls 'his house'.

While ״The Polygamist״ does not shy away from the fierce conflict and violence between Jonasi’s wives, it also allows moments of sisterhood to emerge. Joyce and Matipa gradually recognise that they are both victims of the same manipulation, and the latter gives her twins to the first wife after realising she cannot raise them alone. 'They share the injuries and trauma they have both experienced because of Jonasi. Those mutual experiences become part of their healing,' says Dr Pillay. 

However, at the end, the series ultimately suggests that sisterhood alone cannot overcome patriarchy and law. After Jonasi’s death, his young mistress, Lindani, shifts her loyalty to his son in pursuit of the inheritance. She no longer calls him by his first name. He is now Mr. Gomora.

For Dr Pillay, that scene is the darkest moment in the series. The son inherits the title, the status, and the power along with the money. 'The ending implies that patriarchy is cyclical,' she said, and raises the question of whether Joyce will live through the same struggles a second time, under the next generation.

Asked whether a show watched by tens of millions, produced by two daughters of South Africa's most famous polygamist, might shift how the country sees the practice, Dr Pillay remains reluctant. 'Unfortunately, I do not think it will,' she said, 'people's choices continue to be shaped by the circumstances in which they find themselves.' Lindani proves the point: she has already found her next route to security, and it is the same as before.

Image Credits: Courtesy of Netflix © 2026