For those getting married today, may your wedding never be hijacked like this one:



It was on a beautiful Saturday morning when Victor Banks and Vivian Fowope were meant to be married. The venue was a church in an obscure town in Lagos. The groom had chosen the venue because he wanted a low key wedding; he had invited only fifty people, keeping in mind that those fifty may each invite two or three people.

The church was the largest building in the town, but it wasn’t as big as a Cathedral. The choir included the best singers in the town. The inside of the church contained about fifty pews; twenty-five on both sides of a narrow path that led to the altar. The inside had been decorated the day before with beautifully coloured balloons hanging from the ceiling fans. The usual blue coloured cloth that covered the wall of the altar had been changed to a cloth designed with beautiful patterns.

Everyone was dressed for the occasion, the men in native dresses or suits and the women in native dresses, except the bride who had on a beautiful bridal gown whose ends swept the floor behind her when she walked. The groom was handsome and the bride was beautiful.

After the choir finished singing, the bespectacled pastor walked to the pulpit. He was dressed in a priestly white gown. He placed his big Bible on the pulpit and stared at the congregation, and the almost wedded couple standing in front of him.

“If there is anyone who doesn’t want these two to be joined in holy matrimony, such person should raise his or her hand or keep quiet forever,” he announced.

The bride was jittery, and she squeezed her hands in anxiety, afraid to look back; the husband on the other hand, was quite confident that no one would go against the wedding. He had no enemies and only his friends and close associates were here.

The congregation gasped as a hand went up. The owner of the hand stood up from a pew in the center of the church; it was a beautiful woman who was dressed in a nice native dress. The people around her glared at her, but she ignored them all. Like a queen, she sashayed towards the altar.

The pastor was shocked and he could not close his mouth. Unlike some brides, this bride did not faint; instead she looked back and stared curiously and fearfully at the woman walking towards her. The groom had the most curious expression: it was a safe bet to say that he was the most shocked in the room. And that was because he knew the woman. He knew her very well.

“Suzzie, what are you doing?” The shocked groom asked.

The woman rolled her eyes. “Oh Victor, where are your manners? Is that the way to greet your sweetie?”

Vivian turned to Victor. “Who is she?” She asked sharply.

“She is that former girlfriend I told you about.”

Suzzie glared at him. “Me? Former girlfirend. Let me tell you something, today is the day we get married.” She looked at the baffled congregation. “Boys,” she called sharply.

Suddenly, ten men dressed in well-ironed suits, and eyes covered with dark glasses stood up, each carrying suitcases. One man walked to the door entrance and locked the door; two men each walked to the door on either side of the church and locked it. Another man walked past the befuddled pastor and secured the pastors’ door beside the altar. Two men locked all the windows and switched on the fans. The remaining four men walked to the front and stood beside Suzzie.

“Status report,” she ordered. It was the beginning of the wedding hijacking.

One by one, the men guarding the doors answered, “Secured.” While the stunned congregation watched, each men in suits opened their suitcases and brought out fully-loaded automatic rifles. Two women fainted immediately, while others placed their hands on their heads. The armed men collected all phones and acted as ushers.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen,” Suzzie called to the congregation, holding a mic in one hand; her voice boomed from the speakers. “The wedding continues but the bride has been changed. Now, it is Suzzie and Victor. Somebody shout Halleluyah.”

No one responded. Suzzie sighed. “Do I have to order my men to shoot before you can shout Halleluyah in the house of God? This is a freaking wedding hijacking!””

“Halleluyah,” someone screamed with a shaky voice. The others responded fearfully.

“Just keep quiet and cooperate and you will live. Suzzie faced Vivian. “Pele o, Iyawo. Go and kneel down there, raise up your hands and close your eyes,” she said pointing at a corner.

Vivian did not comply; she only glared at Suzzie. “Oh, you want to prove stubborn, abi. Sparrow, shoot her mother.”

As one of the suited men raised his rifle, Vivian shouted, “Wait! Wait!” She quickly ran to the corner and knelt down, raising her hands and closing her eyes.

“What are you doing, Suzzie?” Victor asked with a voice full of rage.

Suzzie smiled sweetly at him. “Why, getting married to you, of course.” She faced the pastor. “Pastor.”

“Ma,” the pastor answered with fear, clutching the Bible to his chest.

“Are you ready to carry on with the wedding?”

“Yes ma.”

“Good. Where are my designers?”

The door beside the altar opened and three women entered the church carrying bundles of clothes. One of the women used a large blanket to cover Suzzie, in order to shield her from the gaze of the congregation. Victor stood there in anger. Vivian was too scared to open her eyes. The pastor’s mouth was moving in silent prayer. Most of the congregation were calling the name of Jesus silently.

Twenty minutes later, the blanket was removed, and Suzzie stood there, resplendent in a beautifully designed bridal gown that displayed all her curves. She was beautiful. Even Victor could not look away. She walked gracefully towards him.

“Pastor, oya.”

“Yes ma.”

“Choir, give me beautiful songs, I wish to dance. Today is my day of joy.”

One gunman walked to the choir stand and used his gun like a choir conductor. The choir members stood up and began to sing, with lukewarmness.

Suzzie was not happy with the song, so she called a stop. She collected the mic and faced the choir. “Are you alright? Do I have to shoot you before you sing nice songs? Where is the choir master or mistress?”

One man in the choir pointed at a woman. The woman got angry. “What? I am not the choir mistress o. I resigned last week. You are the choir master.”

“You are a liar, it is you.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Suzzie called. “Didn’t your pastor teach you not to fight in the house of God?” She faced the pastor. “Didn’t you teach them?”

The pastor was shaking. “I taught them ma, maybe they didn’t learn well.”

“Anyway, the two of you will lead the songs. I want Alujo,” Suzzie said to the choir master and mistress. She faced the congregation. “Anyone who doesn’t dance to my satisfaction will be shot. Now shall we begin..”

The singers sang like they had never sang before, and the drummer went crazy. Different styles of dancing were displayed. From Shoki to Kukere to Yahooze, Shaku Shaku, etc. Big men with big stomachs were shaking their stomachs to the drums and nodding their heads. The pastor jumped up and down. Victor danced stiffly and reluctantly. As they all danced, they glanced at the gunmen through the corner of their eyes. Only Vivian remained kneeling on the ground.

After the song, when the congregation had been ordered to sit, the pastor returned to the pulpit. “If there is anyone who doesn’t want…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Suzzie interrupted. “Pastor, if anyone says No, that person don die o. I shall not tolerate nonsense in my own wedding.”

The pastor understood. “Sister Suzzie, do you take this man, Victor, as your lawfully wedded husband, to cherish and to love, to respect and care for, in happiness and sorrow, till death do you part?”

Suzzie faced Victor and smiled sweetly. “I do,” she whispered at the glaring groom.

The pastor faced Victor. “Bro. Victor, do you take Sister Suzzie as your lawfully wedded wife, to cherish and to love, to care for, in sorrow and joy, till death do you part?”

Continued in the source...[b][/b]


Source:https://opinionsandstories.com/the-wedding-hijacking/

lovely

Thanks

Interesting