My sister's wedding

“Mechie cooler ahu, ugba ahu aburo maka mmadu niile”, my mother yelled at me when I opened the yellow cooler filled with sweet scenting ugba. In fact, my mothed had practically yelled at me the entire day. No, no, not the entire day. She had yelled at me since I arrived in our village, Arondizuogu, few days ago. It was my younger sister, Nmasinachi's “igba nkwu”, traditional wedding and it was the talk of the entire town. Kelechi, her husband, was from a very wealthy home in Idemili and he was also doing good for himself. Sometimes I thought my mother was more excited than Nma. She talked about Nma's wedding at every gathering she went for and boasted of Kelechi's wealth. My father had cautioned her at some point, it was getting annoying. 

My mother rubbed this recent development in my face.

“You see your youngest sister, Nma, she’s just 22 and she’s getting married. Where’s your own husband Adanna?”

“Your immediate younger sister Nmesommachi is also married now and expecting a child. Where is your husband Adannaya oh?”

I was always dumbfounded when she started the charades. She felt that at my age of 28,  even though I looked younger than my age, I should have been married and bearing grandchildren for her. I used to think it was just her being thoughtful, but since Nma’s wedding preparations, her words became a sharp sword piercing my heart over and over again. 

She would chastise me at umu Ada gatherings, “Adanna, you know you shouldn’t even be here, I ma na i kwesiri i no be di gi.” 

“Hapu ya nu, leave her alone Ugoeze”, my aunty, Obiageli would always try to defend me, “is it until she brings a bad man to you that you will be happy?”

“Let her bring boy sef, let alone man, ofodu nke di bad”, my mother would respond.

Through it all, I remained silent. Maybe that was what made my mother talk all the more. It’s not that I didn’t have anything to say to her, I was just being respectful. My father also warned her to leave me alone but she never relented in her talks.

Arondizuogu always soothed me. With the tall palm trees that produced excellent palmwine, the sharp sand that covered the earth and the rivers that always looked refreshing. I loved coming home, but my mother was making this visit a living hell. Today, which was Nma’s Igba nkwu wasn’t different. That morning, when  Nmesoma and I were waiting with Nma in her room for the makeup artist to arrive, my mum had come to see Nma. She poured enough praises on the daughter she was very proud of.

“Nwa wa wa mara Nma..

Akwaeke..

Ego oyibo m..

Olu gbajie all the boys..

Tomato jos m..

Baby na yoka..

Asa mpete ..

Asa Obodo oyibo m..

The daughter in whom I’m well pleased, you look so beautiful nne.”

“Thank you mummy”, Nma blushed.

“You have made me proud, unlike some people”, my mother said, eyeing me.

“Mummy, leave Adanna alone”, Nmesoma replied.

“Bia, I wasn’t talking to you”, my mother said, ready to face Nmesoma.

“Bikonu, it’s my wedding, can we all be happy”, Nma pleaded.

“Of course baby”, I said, giving my little sister a kiss on her head, “we’ll be happy.” I left them as soon as the makeup artist arrived. I got to my room and began to wonder if something was actually wrong with me. I never took my mum’s talks seriously before but it started to look like a cause to worry. It’s not like I hadn’t dated before or being in love, it just never worked out. It was either the guy left because I was older, or because I was my own boss or he just simply got tired of me. There was this Yoruba guy I dated, Bola and he was great. I knew my mum would never have permitted the relationship, but I didn’t care. Anyways, the relationship ended not because of my mum but because of our genotypes. Yeah, you guessed right, we are both AS.

As if that wasn’t enough, there was Greg. Tall, fine handsome Greg. He had chiseled abs and his beards were so perfect. Yes, he was perfect. Whenever I thought of him, I couldn’t blame the lady in the Confessional movie, “one smile daughter of Zion aff off pant.” I know right, really funny. Greg and I were getting to know each other and going on amazing dates. Then one day, he just left. Yes, just like that. I didn’t hear from him again, no calls or messages. It was much later I heard he had left the country. I was perplexed, why couldn’t he just tell me he wasn’t the long distance relationship person instead of just ghosting. It wasn’t my fault that the men didn’t just stick around.

“Maybe you need deliverance”, I said to myself as I began to prepare too.

Nma’s Igba nkwu took place in my father’s compound. It was a simple bungalow with  enough space to host a lot of people. White canopies had been set up in front of the bungalow and the cooking took place at the back of the house. It started pretty well, with my elders welcoming the in-laws. I was too busy to notice anyone. From dancing out with Nma, to helping her dress, three times, to making sure the food was served well. I was practically everywhere and that meant I heard all the comments and rubbish that people spat.

“Isn’t she the first daughter? I heard she’s not even married.”

“She’s the first daughter? She looks really small.”

“Why is she even serving at her younger sister's wedding? If I were her I wouldn’t even show my face. Such shame.”

“I heard she pursues men away because of her money. Do you know she has a house and a car? What man would want to stay with such a woman?”

And the talks went on and on. It felt like they all wanted me to hear what they said. What was wrong in owning your car and being able to afford a place to stay without a man? I was appalled. 

The ceremony was over soon enough and Nma left with her husband and their people to Idemili, as was the tradition. My father’s compound was still packed with people, eating and drinking. The DJ was also playing songs that were magical. I remembered Nma dancing to “Baby oku” by Flavor. The joy in my heart was priceless. When Nma presented the wine in the cup to Kelechi after my father had blessed her, the DJ played “Ada Ada” by Flavor. Yes, Nma wasn’t an Ada but the song was fitting. When she was leaving, “Ije awele” by Umu obiligbo and flavor filled the atmosphere.

I was so exhausted and thought all the insults for the day were over. I thought wrong. I was hungry and the ugba nwanyi Ijele cooked called to me and I answered. I took a plate and a spoon and opened the yellow cooler, then my mother’s sharp voice almost made me jump out of my skin. I closed the cooler, clearly I wasn’t important enough to have a little ugba.

I left the backyard and went under one of the canopies with a bottle of palmwine, ready to drown my pain in alcohol. The canopy was empty which was perfect. Umu obiligbo's “culture” filled the air and I decided to make a toast.

“To all the boys I have loved”, I said and took a large gulp of the palmwine.

“Onye amuma si anyi gbalu umu nwanyi oso but I see myself attracted to this one”, a voice behind me said.

My drink spilled on me as I jumped at the voice. I heard him laugh and I turned around to see who it was that picked a line from the song to talk to me.

“I’m sorry I startled you”, he said, still laughing.

Oh, I wanted to be angry. I was already in a bad mood, I wanted to be alone, my privacy was  invaded and on top of it all, the invader had the nerve to laugh at me spilling wine on myself. But just looking at him sent the anger I felt to a bottomless pit. This guy was drop-dead gorgeous. He was fair with a little goatee and moustache. His teeth was  immaculate white and his lips were pink. He had incredible eyes and a dimple that made me want to put my finger into it. He wore a white and gold senator and his shoes were black and shinny. Yes, I had looked him over, from head to toe. His dressing meant he was with the groom. That was what the groom’s friends wore.

“No, you’re not”, I said. “You’re obviously amused.” I tried to use my handkerchief to clean up my blouse.

“Okay, I really am sorry”, he said solemnly. “May I sit with you?”

I stared at him, why the hell did he want to sit with me? “I’m not much fun. You’ll get bored.”

“I doubt that”, he said. His eyes were mesmerizing.

I gave up trying to clean off the palmwine, “fine”, I grumbled.

He took a chair and sat opposite me. I had placed the bottle of palmwine on a chair beside me.

“I’m Zikora Chukwuka”, he said, offering his palm for a hand shake, “and you must be Adanna.”

“I thought I was supposed to introduce myself while shaking your hand but I see that’s not necessary.” I shook his hand and continued drinking.

He laughed again. That laugh was intoxicating. His dimple flashed before me like a diamond. I was clearly melting inside but I had to compose myself.

“Well, Adanna, I knew who you were immediately I saw you dancing to “Ogene” by Zoro. You killed it. Everyone was supposed to notice the bride, but you just stole that moment.”

“Mua nka? Stole the moment? Hian. Please I’m not that good at dancing”, I said, sipping my palmwine shyly.

“Girl you are. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I had to ask who you were. Some of the guys mentioned you were Nma’s eldest sister. I could have sworn you were her twin.”

I smiled at the twin statement. It wasn’t the first time Nma and I were called twins. My small body stature was to blame for it. Nmesoma was bigger.

”Yes, I am Nma’s elder sister. Who exactly are you to the groom?” I inquired.

 “I’m one of Kelechi’s oldest friends. I’m not always around but I had to be here for my guy.”

“You know your guy and all the other guys are on their way to Idemili now right?”

He smiled and his dimple flashed again. I wished he’d keep smiling. “I know that, but I think I’m gonna stick around in Arondizuogu. I see something I like.”

“And what do you like in this Arondizuogu of mine?” I asked, clearly playing coy.

He leaned forward and whispered, “you!”

“I find that very flattering but I don’t even want to stay here. All I want to do is pack my things and leave for Lagos. I’ve had enough of this place.” I poured more wine in my cup and sipped gloomily.

He watched me closely then asked, “care to share what’s making you gloomy?”

“Zikora, I just met you. It’ll take some time before I share my personal thoughts with you. If I’ll ever share them. Basically, you have to be a friend for that to happen.”

He smiled, “I understand. Maybe you could share the palmwine with me at least.”

I handed him the almost empty bottle of wine. “Help yourself.”

He took a gulp from the bottle, “this is really good.”

I nodded, “Yes, indeed. Freshly tapped from our wonderful palm trees.”

“I want to make a deal with you Adanna.” He finished off the wine and tossed the bottle aside.

I perused him. What the heck was he talking about? “I’m listening.”

“If you are up for a road trip, I can drive us both to Lagos, whenever you are ready to leave. I want to be your friend Adanna. I want to spend time with you. I want you to get comfortable enough with me to talk about why you were disturbed today.”

I was speechless. Why on Earth would this good looking guy want to be friends with me? The old maid. I thought about his offer. Going to Lagos with him wouldn’t be a bad idea, I liked road trips. Besides, what was the harm in having a new friend?

“What if I said I wanted to leave tomorrow?” I asked.

“Then we’ll leave tomorrow”, he answered. 

I laughed, “are you that desperate to be my friend?”

“Maybe I am. Thing is, even if you drive me away now, you’ll still see me at the church wedding next weekend. So what’s stopping us from being friends now?”

“Mmmm, you have a point there”, I smiled. “I’m saying yes to the road trip for now.”

He beamed, “that’s a start.”

I stood up and he stood with me. Damn he was tall. My five feet and few inches had nothing on him. I had to look up to address him. 

“Your phone”, I asked, stretching out my left palm. Yeah, I’m left-handed, get used to it.

He looked confused for a second but I guess he understood why I asked for his phone a second later. I typed my number and saved it on his phone before I handed it back to him.

“We leave on Sunday morning. 5:30am. Don’t be late”, I walked past him and I could tell he was grinning. I controlled the urge to turn around and walked towards the house instead. My plan was to head straight to my room to rest but my other sister definitely had other plans. Nmesoma and her small baby bump “bumped” into me in the living room.

“Adannaya, who was that fine bobo you were talking to?” she asked me, grinning from chin to chin.

“Nmesommachi, how did you see me talking to someone from here?”

“Hapu godi that one, that’s not what I asked you”, she said, placing her hand on her belly. Something I figured she did unconsciously. Her pregnancy was barely 5months. I sighed and dragged her into my room to give her the juicy details.

“His name is Zikora”, I began, “and he’s Kelechi’s friend.” I told her everything and she didn’t interrupt me. Nmesoma is the best gist partner.

“Mad oh. So that’s how you got boyfriend from Nma's wedding. He’s even offering you a ride to Lagos. I hope it’s G-wagon he has”, Nmesoma clapped her hands as she talked.

“I don’t know the car he has”, I laughed. “And he’s not my boyfriend nwanyi a, he just wants to be a friend…for now”, I quickly added.

“I’m glad you put the “for now””, Nmesoma made air quotes.

I stopped taking off my earrings and hurried her out of my room. “Nmesoma, where’s your husband? Biko go find him, get out of here. Leave me alone.” 

She teased me more as she left. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. Today had been a mixture of emotions, happiness, sadness, despair. All I knew was that I deserved to be happy. I’d go back to Lagos with the hot guy and I’ll see what happens from there. I was done letting gossip and insults ruin my mood. I took my bath, changed and decided to find a way to get that ugba. There was no way I wasn’t having a share of it.

Glossary for the Igbo words

• Mechie cooler ahu, ugba ahu aburo maka mmadu niile- close that cooler, that ugba isn’t for everyone.

• Igba nkwu- traditional marriage.

• Umu Ada- group of first daughters.

• I ma na I kwesiri I no be gi di- you know you are supposed to be in your husband’s house.

• Hapu ya nu- leave her.

• Ofodu nke- let alone.

• Bia- come

• Bikonu- please

• Ada- first daughter

• Ugba- an Igbo delicacy.

• Onye amuma si anyi gbalu umu nwanyi oso- the prophet told us to stay away from women.

• Mua nka- me

• Hapu godi- leave

• Nwanyi a- this woman