The stories in this blog are first draft stories with minimal editing, sort of like a practice blog.
Saturday, 11 April 2015
I recently attended a traditional wedding at Enugu, my roommate of six years in the university was getting married. I was there for three days and I decided to base a story there. I really hope you like this one.
We met at a wedding, during the preparations if you want to get into the details. It was kismet, love at first sight, pure magic. Perhaps it was because we were out of our element, it was like nothing we'd ever experienced, or even dreamed of. It was beautiful, bringing to mind a shower of polished diamonds, a field of roses... you get the drift.
I remember what I was doing when I first saw him, I stood with arms akimbo supervising the washing of the beef cuts for the wedding. The wedding was only two days away, we had to cook the stew for the jollof rice that night. I heard his voice behind me and I had to turn, his voice caressed my skin as talked to my partner. He sounded like an angel and looked like one too, he caught my gaze and smiled, his smile dazed me and I could only hang my mouth open from shock. He was the bride's cousin and had come from Enugu town for the wedding with his mother.
We held hands everywhere, we didn't try to hide what we felt, we couldn't have hidden it even if we wanted to. It bubbled out of us like a fiery geyser shooting heated sparks bursting with colour. The villagers smiled at us indulgently and winked knowingly as we stopped to greet them. We had to greet everyone, you'd considered extremely rude if you failed to stop to greet every human, animal and plant you met along the way. The bold and brash villagers asked when we'd get married, we only giggled in reply as we sailed past them on the cloud of love or magic carpet of romance depending on which you'd prefer.
We whispered secrets to each other while sitting at the banks of the Ozalla river, we tried to catch the silvery fishes with our bare hands and chuckled as they eluded our playful grasps. We knew this was only an interlude so we enjoyed every minute without inhibition, real life seemed worlds away. My living in Lagos which was hundreds of kilometres away from Enugu didn't matter, nothing mattered but the here and now.
The day of the wedding dawned with promise of sunshine, everyone rejoiced as we prepared to leave the house for the church. I was excited because I would spend time with him at the ceremony, we were both members of the bridal party. As we filed out of the car to the church, we hurried to take each other's hand. We didn't just do this because of our bond, we had to hold hands as we walked into the church, he was the ring bearer and I was the little bride...
I left my heart in Enugu, perhaps I'll never get it back.