It was a breezy beautiful afternoon, when boredom was showing off his dexterity to me. I must put a halt to this, what nonsense! Quickly and swiftly jumped into a nice Pyjamas, on a journey to spice up my afternoon.
“Chelsea vs Manchester United”, a boldly written inscription on a wall in one of the houses on a street. Wow! What are you waiting for? I made to walk in, but almost immediately, like an unusual coincidence, a charming, feminine structure came out of the house. Trekking majestically with; with her catchy curves struggling to puff out of her dress. It will be a miss of the century if I do not make this bold step. Like every other avid admirer; within few minutes, caught up with her to at least change pleasantries. Boredom! You are finished.
Hi Cute Lady, my names are Legend Ben, but my close pals call me Lege B. Oh! That’s cool, and how may I help you, she answered in the affirmative, sounding like the voice of the American Rihana. I like to know you better, and would love to say you are an epitome of beauty with a sweet stature, posture, coupled with your angelic voice that no man would want to resist. Thanks, she beamed with chuckles.
Expectedly, there was chemistry, the genesis of a cordial bond was established. We shared exciting messages via text messages, night calls, visits to cinemas, football stadiums, etc. Our love had no bounds, even birds of the air knew us as best of friends. In the course of this ‘lovy-dovy’ affair, I had totally forgotten the words of my late mother.
Simultaneously , calendar months and years walked side by side, and days flew like kites. The plan for tying the knots began. First was the conventional conjugal bliss.
Kolanuts, honey, groundnuts, bitter kola lay side by side on the table, showing a signal of traditional event. High Chiefs, dressed in gowns with red caps sitting comfortably on their different heads. Soon the occasion kick-started.
Interestingly, the time for dancing came in which men, women, even boys and girls flaunted their prolific dancing flairs. The gorgeously dressed women shook their butts continuously to the rhythm of the songs contagiously pushing the ever ready men to up their game by jumping frontwards, back and sideways acrobatically in a bid to beat the women to their game. Moving their legs one by each rhythmically, and with flutes on the hands nodding their heads like Agama Lizards, they played in the traditional tune common to the Eastern part of the country they were from, making the occasion a worthwhile experience.
The climax of the event came when my charming, ever-smiling bride was to present a drink to her supposedly known groom, while she walked from one tent to another, some of the seated men stretched out their arms as if to confuse her of whom her would-be groom is. Some even sang songs to divert her attention, but at long last she got tome, knelt down and stretched forth her arms, I collected the drink, drank with pride and the crowd responded with a thunderous round of applause.
This followed with a holy matrimony at her parent church where we tied the knots amid several men and women of substance ranging from Ambassadors, University Pro-Chancellors, Chief Executive Officers of multinational companies and other government functionaries.
Euphorically, like the small end pot of the rainbow has more significance than the entire rainbow, my mind flashed back to her words “My son, do not, for any reason marry from the eastern part of the country . . . I asked myself “Against her wish”?