Day 7 (7th May)

Today is going to be full of activities. It’s my cousin’s wedding today as well as my friend’s father’s funeral. I am determined to attend both even though it’s happening in two different cities nearly 400kms apart. I decided to go to the funeral first as the service is at 9am while the wedding is at 10.30am. I accosted my youngest ex step mother (I think at the last count I have 3 ex step mothers) to accompany me to the funeral.

We left Lagos at 8.30am; I think I’d forgotten the state of the Ibadan- Lagos express road not to mention the traffic. It took us about 2 and half hours to get there, then we missed the direction to the place, totally my fault, where I thought was not where we should have taken. Luckily, I called an old friend on arrival in the city and he asked where we were going in order for him to come and meet us there. When he heard where we were headed, he laughed; he actually laughed and made fun of me because, according to him, he expected me to know the direction given the number of times I had taken the same route. Needless to say, I could have pinched myself because he was right.

We turned right back and got stuck in traffic. We eventually got to the venue about one hour to the end. It was really nice to be able to attend. We stayed for about one hour and had to rush back to Lagos to attend the latter part of the wedding reception.

We 9gerian’s love parties! I think there would be over 1000 people at this reception. The venue was packed with myriad of purple and lilac colors which were the bridal colors for the day. I saw cousins from my Mother’s side which I have not seen for over twenty years.

It was beautiful, it was rowdy and it was hot. We love parties, with colour coordinated shoes, bags and accessories. We 9gerians don’t mind getting our attire on debt for parties. And everything must match because you would be checked out just like you too would check others out. My goodness, King Solomon was right to say vanity upon vanity all is vanity.

The millions (both in money and effort) you spend on an event that lasts only for a couple of hours. I guess as a parent one wants to give ones’ children the best wedding. I do wonder though, is it for the children or for the parent. I was at the reception for about 2 hours and the newly wedded couple was on the dance floor all that time. I know they’ve been on it before I arrived. I pitied the bride’s feet oh. At one point the couple were dancing all alone on one side of the floor, whilst a group of people, I guess one of whom was being lauded by the musician, were busy on the other side of the dance floor. I wonder if the wedding was about other people enjoying themselves much more than the newly married.

It took me back to mine so (with emphasis) many years ago. We spent most of the reception sitting feeling (at least I did) neglected. I felt the wedding was more for my parent than anything. We were just there. We get the occasional acknowledgement of greeting but the center of attention was my parents definitely. Maybe they deserve it after all the years of hard work, care and effort over me. Hm, I must definitely ensure my girls are the center of attention on their wedding day. They must feel pampered like princesses.

Anyway, we got home ready to drop. It was a good day, spent with family and friends. We also had elder family members stay with us. One that is very dear to my heart is my mum’s step mum, who is 84 years old but oh so strong and active, with all her faculties still intact. Her elder sister is 99 years old so I guess longetivity and good health runs in the female side of the family. We call my mum’s step mother (does this mean she is my step grandmother?) mama oriapata, mum who lives on top of the hill. The name is because my grandparent’s house is built on a rock. You have to climb a rock to get to the house. The house has been there since the 40’s and its still standing strong. It reminds me of the saying that a house built on a rock stands forever. I wonder whether my grandpa who was a Reverend was thinking about this when he got the land or should I say the rock. I remember so many great experiences with the Jiboku dynasty in that house we call Oriapata (on top of the rock) in Abeokuta. Those experiences are for another day and another time. By the way, Mama Oriapata gave every one of her step children and their children nick names. My mum is Ibadi aran (A bum that is wrapped in Aran – a type of Yoruba material that shines) I guess because she is roundly endowed, she calls me Ereke Po – chubby cheeks ( I wonder why!), my mum’s sister is Gelee o dun (No pleasure in head tie unless you know how to wear it, my Uncle is  Ashelebe ( a slim person) and so one for others. It’s so charming. This is a tradition that is no longer common, who a wife that comes to the family to give nicknames to the children of the house as a sign of affection. I think I will ask her to teach me some names to give to my sister in law and brothers in law. Ereke po that is me, yes ke.

To God is the glory for a day as this.