My eyes were gradually getting
accustomed to the darkness. It's been three whole days that I have been locked
away in this hole, called a room. The wedding is next day, and just like
every bride, I had the pre-wedding jitters. I was excited, anxious and scared.
The clutter of feelings was something I had yet to understand, but the marriage
itself was not what scared me the most. It was the rigorous process I had to go
through, and what I am still going through that has my mind stirred.
I did not understand a culture that locked a bride up for days just to keep her from the public.
I mean I am an educated, Harvard graduate for that matter. How in the heavens did I find myself in this position? I longed for an explanation, but nothing Nne Ude said helped quell the curiosity in my heart.
When I said yes to the man I loved, the whispering of his sweet rubbish did nothing to prepare me for this barbarous tradition.
I desired an escape. I longed for freedom.
I did not understand a culture that locked a bride up for days just to keep her from the public.
I mean I am an educated, Harvard graduate for that matter. How in the heavens did I find myself in this position? I longed for an explanation, but nothing Nne Ude said helped quell the curiosity in my heart.
When I said yes to the man I loved, the whispering of his sweet rubbish did nothing to prepare me for this barbarous tradition.
I desired an escape. I longed for freedom.
Oh! Why didn't we just elope and marry through the drive thru wedding places in
Las Vegas? Why? I asked no one in particular.
This culture is crazy, bizarre. I muttered for the umpteenth time. I had
planned escape every now and then, especially as the lady, that was called Nne
Ude, came in each day. I was aggravated and could not believe I consented to
being locked up. Was I that desperate to marry this African man?
"Omene, Omene. We are bringing you some food". I heard Nne Ude call
out from outside. Turning the key, I heard the door creak gently under the pressure of Nne Ude's strong hands.
Flinging the door open, she walked into the room with such grace and gait, I
concluded that she cannot possibly come from this rural community called a village.
Nne Ude was the eldest woman in the clan and she was the only one authorized to
see the bride before the wedding day. She brought food for me daily and water
to wash. "Wash! Oh that. Hmmpphh...",
I sighed. I remembered how I luxuriously took my time letting the warm
water pour on me in my Atlanta house, as a flood of anger and sadness filled
me. I never imagined bathing to be something done with a bucket, black
soap and some napkins. "All these for Chidi?", I asked myself again.
Adjusting my eyes to the sunlight, I opened the left eye first, then the right.
I never thought I would look forward to sunlight this much, or even the
chirping of birds. I took in my environment with a new found appreciation to
nature. I raised my face to the west wind and embraced the cold harmattan
breeze on my face.
"Omene, you must let us braid your
hair tonight, okay?", Nne Ude said.
I smiled. "Why should my hair be
braided? Isn't it my wedding? Don't I even have a say on how I want to look on
my most precious day?", I wondered.
Nne Ude sat with me and talked some more
about the whole process. I was not interested but I listened. All I wanted was
to be with my groom and get back to Atlanta. I decided I was never going to set
foot on Africa soil again. Where I come from, we believe strongly in liberty. So
with everything within me, I sought for that freedom.
Finally, the D-day came. I was so
ecstatic! At last, the ceremony would end and my misery will go away. I was mad
at Chidi for letting them lock me up, but I also remembered the times when he
asked me over and over if I was certain
I wanted to perform the traditional rites. He actually offered me a wedding in
Atlanta, with just his family and mine, but I wanted to visit Africa.
"Hmmm...", I sighed. Maybe I should have said yes to a wedding in
Atlanta instead of this days of darkness, loneliness and anger, but I was soon
to forget my sorrow as I heard the music.
First, the harmonious music from the
talking drums woke me. It was beautiful to be woken by the sound of singing. It
felt like heaven; like the angels sang just for me. I never thought music made
from anything other than contemporary drums, guitar, and grand piano would be
so glorious. Anyway, taking my mind off the drummers, I looked down at the
African attire Nne Ude had adorned me in. I have not seen my reflection in the
mirror, but the pain from the braids I had plaited yesterday discouraged me
from asking for a mirror. I just went to bed.
"Omene, you look like a bride
now", Nne Ude said grinning from ear to ear, jutting me out of my
misgiving. Pushing me with the kindest touch I have ever felt, she turned me
toward the mirror. I could not believe the reflection. I looked just like a
photo in Elle magazine. I was beauty personified, I must confess. Wow! What did
Nne Ude do to me? How did she turn me into a goddess; into a true beauty? How?
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought of the times, during these past few
days, when I thought of choking her to death for locking me up.
"What is wrong, Omene?", Nne
Ude asked me when she saw the tears stream down my face.
I could not find words to express
myself, I just laughed and hugged her.
"Now, let's go and get you
married", she said to me.
The wedding ceremony was never like I
imagined. Not even all of the many tales Chidi told me about his culture
prepared me for this kind of celebration. I felt loved and wanted by this
community. The whole village came out in singing and dancing just to witness my
marriage to Chidi. Wow! Who would do that for you in the US? I thought. This
was different. Indeed!
After the priest pronounced us husband
and wife, we were escorted to the edge of the town with merriment, as the people chanted I and
Chidi's name. For some reason they could not pronounce my American name and
resorted to calling me Omene. Nne Ude says it means gift from heaven. I liked the meaning of the name and did not
bother protesting about calling me by original birth name.
Being in Chidi's arms, I was overjoyed
and glad that I was finally free from the clutches of customs and traditions. Ha! Who has heard
of a wedding ceremony that took three whole weeks to happen? I mean the wedding
starts from the first week and ends on the last day of the third week. Wow!
What a tradition!
As I wrapped myself in Chidi's arms I
was glad I did not give up on his culture. It was a strange and a new
experience for me, but it opened my eyes to a different phase of life. To a
culture that loved you irrespective of where you were from. That was a new kind
of freedom I think the world should know about. The freedom to choose whom to
marry and where to marry without fear of stigmatization. Wow! I am married to
an African man! I chuckled and snuggled closer to my husband.
Staring far into space, I remembered Nne
Ude again and I missed her.
*Picture credit: https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&docid=SVNm2kaUUQc5GM&tbnid=0bMRpDrg-AYD8M:&ved=0CAQQjB0&url=http%3A%2F%2Fkwekudee-tripdownmemorylane.blogspot.com%2F2013%2F06%2Fedo-people-africas-most-popular-and.html&ei=DUv7U7yVB8OfyASrh4GYDw&bvm=bv.73612305,d.aWw&psig=AFQjCNFysUSKSUGN8MJ4GY-oLLDtSXgFCw&ust=1409063618900180