My tailor finally picked my
calls. After two freaking weeks
of ceaselessly disturbing him
with phone calls, he got sick
and tired of me. In short, he
stopped picking my calls. I
knew his phone battery would
literally wish death on me. But
the tailor dey craze big time.
For wetin, ogbeni calm down
jor, okpolo eye no be open eye
o . When he eventually picked
my call, I told him how
phucked up his attitude was
and promised not to bring any
more clothes for him to make
for me again. “U no know say
na big traditional wedding wey
I dey attend so? U no know say
the person wey dey marry the
girl na from abroad him dey
come so?” I shouted on the
phone. He dismally apologized
and quickly blamed it on the
devil. Chai, the devil don suffer
true true.
On the wedding day, I wore
the cloth the tailor made for
me and joined my colleagues in
a chattered vehicle – a
commercial bus – and
proceeded to the bride’s
hometown. The road leading to
her home town was dusty and
brown grasses adorned the
entrance to the village. As we
alighted from the bus, Maggie
saw us and came towards our
direction. ‘Congratulations’
filled the air and she told us
how happy she was to finally
be getting married to the man
of her dreams. I knew her
story well; she has had about 5
or 6 heartbreaks before this
one finally clicked.
By 1pm, the ceremony
started. The live band
continually doled out some
boring gospel songs while the
MC told outdated and mind-
numbing jokes that would
make you feel sorry for
whoever paid for his services.
Drinks were served and
sumptuous dishes were also
presented to the guests. When
it was time to break the kola,
the in-laws chose the eldest
man in the kindred clan to
perform the traditional rites.
He spoke at length about how
it would be well for the bride,
the groom and all the well
wishers. He then broke the
kola nut he was holding into
two and dropped one half on
the ground. This was meant
for the ancestors! I saw a man
collect two kola nuts and a
garden-egg from the tray; and
another, a woman, reject the
kola. According to her, she
would not accept any offering
that was meant for demons. I
wondered when the ancestors
turned to demons.
All the while, I never
realized I was sitting on a
dusty seat. Holy Mary , I
exclaimed. I turned around
and asked my colleagues how
bad the dusty stain was and
they said it was pretty bad. My
goodness ! I walked away from
the venue and went towards
the bus to clean the dirt off
with a piece of cloth. I tried
my best but I couldn’t get all
the stains off. Well, e no matter
jor. In a worst case scenario,
people go laff me and
afterwards, would forget about
the whole event . I decided to
walk back to the venue.
By the time I reached my
seat, the bride was already
dancing. Boy, she looked
ravishing and beautiful. Her
stylist should be given an extra
token for the good job she did.
She had orange beads on her
neck that complemented the
orange wrapper she wore. Her
voluptuous boobs were held
firmly by a small piece of grey
sequin material festooned with
ornaments and rubies. For a
second, I wished that tiny
piece of cloth would fall off so
I’d behold her big breasts. She
danced gracefully to the tune
of Flavour’s hit track ‘Ada
Ada’.
But something was amiss!
She was dancing alone. As she
danced, she held the portrait
of a smiling man. The man was
dark and I quickly guessed he
should be in his early forties. I
hurriedly turned to one of our
colleagues, Ebere and asked
innocently:
“Eby, you people didn’t tell me
we were attending a burial.
Una no try o”.
“Baruu, which kind talk be
that. Abeg, I no get time for
your jokes”, she replied
innocently also.
“But look at Maggie na, why is
she dancing with the portrait
of her dead brother”, I replied.
“Hahahahaha. Oh, that! This
guy Baruu, you no well. The
guy is not her brother o. That
is the husband’s picture she is
holding. The guy stays in
Malaysia and couldn’t attend
the wedding so they had to
arrange it to be this way”, she
answered.
A picture of the groom!
Gracious Lord, what has this
world turned to? I promptly
realized this was an ‘ Arrangee
Marriage ’. Na wa o, eee speak
lee kwe! I decided not to say
anything stupid or negative
throughout the occasion. I even
walked up to the dancing floor
and sprayed a couple of naira
notes on the bride and on the
portrait of the groom. When it
was time for the bride and the
groom to kiss, Maggie brought
out the portrait once more and
proceeded to kiss the picture
of the husband. Pamurogo !
Eventually, the ceremony
came to an end. Maggie
thanked us for coming and told
the ladies she intended joining
her husband in Malaysia
within the month. Most of the
girls pretended they were
happy for her. Zeeny, the
parrot-girl, told her she was
already feeling jealous and
they laughed over it. It was
this same Zeeny that started
all the snitching when we
boarded the bus and started
our journey back home. Evil
Zeeny ! She even went as far as
stating that she heard the
husband was locked up in a
jail in Malaysia which was why
he couldn’t attend the
wedding. Chai, women and
ratting !
Fast forward to a year later,
and I was having lunch with
Zeeny before we went back to
the hospital. Omo, Zeeny na
my person jor. I always enjoy
her company. Anytime I want
to have a dose of laughter
while listening to well
packaged gossips, she was the
girl to be with. And on this
occasion, I made sure I did
enjoy the gossips. She talked
about Maggie and the
Malaysian husband. She talked
about how the husband turned
her to a punching bag and how
Maggie was always spending
nights at the hospitals as
doctors attended to her bruises
and lacerations. Her words:
“Baruu, I dey pity Maggie well
well o. Seriously, I dey pity
her. Me and her, we always
chat on Facebook or Whatsapp.
She is always bitter and
crying”, she said.
“How do you know she cries?
Does she cry through
Facebook”, I asked
sarcastically.
“Haba, Baruu. No na, she sent
me pictures of her bruised and
battered face. She is not happy
at all o. She says her husband
is a bush man with a stinking
breath and eats like a pig”, she
replied while requesting for
another bottle of Orijin.
“Chai, Zeeny. She told you all
this? Ok, so when last did the
two of you talk”, I asked.
“Yesterday o! In fact, you won’t
believe the one that happened
yesterday. The husband was
drunk and after he finished
eating, says to Maggie: “Baby,
ngwa, over to the bedroom...let
us Bleep”. And as they reached
the bedroom, he just threw
Maggie on the bed, turned her
around and savagely entered
her. He didn’t even last long
and dumped his goods inside
of her and thereafter, pushed
her aside as he slept off”, she
said while mimicking the act.
“Hahaha, she told you all that?
Na wa o”, I replied.
Alright, I won’t post the
remaining conversation. But
throughout that day, I kept
thinking how unhappy Maggie
would be. And she is not
alone; a lot of ladies marry
guys they never knew out of
desperation. In a bid to join
the league of married ladies,
they resort to accept any
marriage proposal from any
one. Any one at all, it doesn’t
matter! And what do they get
afterwards...a life of endless
misery and gloom. Theirs is a
melancholic abode.
Marrying someone you
barely know is a big risk. I
understand all those stories
about the biological clock
ticking and stuffs like that. But
it won’t make sense to get into
such an Arrangee Marriage and
be getting knocked at like
Floyd Mayweather battering
his opponents. It is important
to combine patience and
wisdom in choosing your life
partner; someone you’d always
wish you could marry over and
over again.
And besides, not all
‘Arrangee Marriages’ turn out
to be bad! Capisce!

PS: This work is a satirical
one! No Love Lost, No Love
Found! So don’t feel bad for
anyone! All the names no be
so e dey o! Eee speak lee
kwe!