Come o! People! You did not tell me wedding planning would be like this na. All you married people on here have been deceiving me this whole time. All I get to see are the pictures of beautiful brides and dapper grooms who are all smiles like they have no care in the world. No one tells you about the rough underbelly that is called wedding planning. If someone told me that I and my bride-to-be would be bickering so much this close to our wedding, I would have said “lai lai!”. I now know better.
It’s sweet to talk about getting married and proposing and all that good stuff but when the time comes, you realize it can be back breaking work. I cannot count how many times I’ve plied the Lagos-Ibadan express in the last two weeks. My car is starting to throw tantrums from all the stress. If was just that sef it wouldn’t be so painful. The rate at which FRSC and NPF have extorted me because I am driving with a fake license is appalling. I try to time my movements so that I don’t run into them but it’s like they use jazz and homing devices to track me down. Just watch, the minute I get the original one done, they will immediately stop pulling me over.
Anyway, back to the point of my post. I have traveled between Lagos and Oyo so many times over the last couple of weeks and it’s starting to tell. As we speak, I’m fighting a running battle with the flu and malaria and praying that they don’t break me down so close to d-day. My iyawo is pregnant and so I am trying as much as possible to take on most of the duties so she doesn’t stress herself too much. Sometimes I think that I am making a big mistake doing that. “We need this, we need that. I know we’re trying to save money for the baby but we HAVE to get those” is all I seem to hear. I the same sentence, she manages to understand the financial constraints and still demand something that’s not in the budget at the same time. Turns out women are highly skilled at that.
To be honest, I don’t know when or how she found my mumu button but she has it firmly under her control because after I rant and rave about how I cannot but something because I don’t have the money for it, I end up forming lover boy and surprising her with it. God help me. I even called her to rake this morning about mounting expenses after I got the bill for house renovations. Not only did I not rake, I ended up singing “Iyawo Mi” to her like a love-struck puppy (Mr. Dakolo would have been proud of my rendition). All this will soon be over sha. The painful thing is that after a few days, our guests won’t even remember the taste of the small chops we spent so much money to provide. Is this life???
In other news, I met my new landlord today. Imagine me prostrating for a 76 year old man and he too is prostrating back. Fear catch me. I had to go down a second time and make sure my hand touched the ground well and this old man followed suit again. I was totally confused. I know I’m not the most traditionally educated man out there but I’m very sure this would not happen elsewhere. Turns out he was using me to catch trips. He prayed for me and the family that will be moving in with me and even sent a text message later thanking me for stopping my to see him. Only in Ibadan. I never even knew my landlord in Lagos and even if I did, I can bet my left pinky finger that he would never even greet me first not to talk of prostrating or thanking me for coming to introduce myself. In fact, he probably wouldn’t even remember my name unless rent is due.
Let me end this post here. I have to go see some market women about several tubers of yam.
Till next time.