"E fun wa ni 'yawo wa, ebe ma l' a nbe yin o! Omi nmbe l' agbala wa, iyawo o r' odo mo o..." The 'wives of the house' chanted endlessly at the entrance to the door of Aduke's house. It was the customary way that the husband's people came to seek for their newly wedded wife after the bride price had been sorted out. From there, the husband is given unhindered access to his wife, having paid his dues. The entire womenfolk from the bride's side then hand over the new bride to her husband's people who have come for her. Usually, the bride is accompanied by her friends and selected wives from her own family to escort her to her new home. Irrespective of the time these escorts reach the groom's home, they are expected to return back to their individual homes so as to enable the couple consummate their marriage.
Aduke was Moriah's cousin from her mother's side. She was the last of the three girls of her parents and had just finished her primary school education at the age of fifteen. She was the only one among her siblings whom her parents sent to school, but she was not a bright pupil. Her elder siblings were already long married and giving birth in their respective homes.
Even though Moriah had counseled her to seek to continue with her education in the secondary school founded in Ake township, Aduke had not been interested in furthering her education. Neither had she bothered to learn a trade. She had looked forward instead to the marriage her parents had contracted, on her behalf, with non other than Ayangbajo, the king's bard in Ake township. Aduke had talked endlessly about her forthcoming wedding ceremony, in which no expense was spared as regards provision relating to feeding the entirety of guests even from as far away as Ondo township!
Moriah and her mother had been with Aduke's family for the past three days, helping to put finishing touches to the preparations for Aduke's forthcoming wedding. Moriah had been at a loss for words as she had wondered at her cousin's excitement as regards the forthcoming wedding. True, Aduke's family will automatically be pivoted to the list of the elites in their village, and they might probably be relocated to the Ake township, but what next after the ceremony? Moriah was quite appalled to discover that Aduke had never had a one-on-one conversation with her would-be husband! What absurdity!
"You mean, you don't even know anything about Ayangbajo?!" Moriah had asked in shock at her cousin's revelation a few days to the ceremony. Aduke had raised an arrogant eyebrow as she quipped, "What's there to know aside from the fact that he is rich and will take good care of me?!"
"But, Aduke, is that what you want in life?" Moriah had persisted, unable to douse her fears for her cousin's well being. Something just didn't seem right.
"So, what do you want in your own life, eh, ojogbon?!" Aduke had retorted, using the well-used xderogatory barb used for girls who 'read too much', in the eyes of the locals.
The discussion had died a natural death as Aduke had strutted off without as much as a backward glance at her hurt cousin.
Now, Moriah watched as Aduke, adorned in the outfit befitting a bride of her husband's calibre, dance out of her father's house. One of her uncle's young wives held the 'aganrandi' so that it would be easier for her to go out through the door. Aduke moved with the grace expected of the shy bride which Moriah, who stood at a corner, watching her, knew she was not. But Aduke was a spectacle to behold in all her finesse. She swung her bejeweled arms gracefully as she swayed to the rhythm of the 'gangan' drummer whom her father had purposely hired to escort her to her husband's domain. The womenfolk rallied her round and ensured that her veil did not fall off her face as she gyrated slowly to the rhythm of the drum beat.
The pomp that attended Aduke's wedding was one of its kind, rivaled only by the Baale's daughter's wedding in the previous harvest season. To crown it all, Ayangbajo, her husband, had sent a 'jalopi' car to convey his new bride home in a grand style. It had been a tough battle among the womenfolk as to who should accompany Aduke home to her husband in the 'jalopi' and eventually, only four of the senior wives had clinched that enviable position. It was not always that the opportunity to get into a privately-owned vehicle presented itself and the senior wives were sure to boast about this in the coming months as well as bring more prestige to their husbands amidst their contemporaries.
Moriah watched sadly as her cousin was carefully tucked into the 'jalopi'. The most senior of the wives was dabbing at Aduke's face gingerly with an embroidered cotton material trimmed with white lace edges, and no doubt whispering words of endearment into her ears.
Back in the compound of Aduke's father, almost the entire village was being entertained. Aduke's father went round the crowd of invited guests, escorted by a praise singer who chanted his 'oriki' non-stop. This endeared him to Aduke's father, who stopped now and then to paste some coins on his forehead. As he went round his guests, he gave money to some of them and also received gifts of money from some of his wealthy friends in return.
The junior wives who were not able to escort the bride to her new home took it upon themselves to share food in their neighbourhoods, even going as far as the suburbs of their village. There was more than enough to eat as well as cart away.
Aduke's wedding was really the talk of the village and its environs. Even the Baale was duly represented at the wedding.
Moriah could only wail inwardly at the futility of it all. Here were the people who claim not to have the means or wherewithal to send their children, especially the girls, to school to have their lives enlightened and their lots in life bettered, yet they spend lavishly on things that had no lasting value. She wondered how her cousin would cope as an illiterate married woman. Moriah knew that even her cousin's husband, Ayangbajo, was a stark illiterate, just like his new wife. She wondered at the kind of lifestyle her cousin would experience in her new home.
"A ku inawo eni o!" Moriah heard one of the well wishers greet her mother and Aduke's mother as they stood, conversing not too far from Moriah. She quickly hid herself from their view.
The women responded warmly to the greeting and the well wisher stayed to pass some time. "Ti wa na a dey o! We shall always have cause to celebrate," she prayed more.
"Ase o!" both Moriah and Aduke's mother answered in unison.
Much later, after the well wisher had gone, Aduke's mother then turned to her sister, smiling. "I can't wait for our own Moriah's turn," she said as she gazed at her sister and tried to stifle a yawn.
"God will guide us beyond that, sister," Moriah's mother answered as she smiled back. "You should rest. It has been a long day." She held her sister firmly by the hand and pulled her towards the house, trying her best to avoid the crowded areas as they maneuvered their way indoors.
Moriah shuddered at the thought of being married to a man like Agbekoya, who was getting bolder by the day, what with her parents practically encouraging him! She vividly recalled what had happened after that night when her parents had shattered her dreams with their revelation. She had immediately become withdrawn and it had taken Sade's endless and persistent coaxing to bring her to open up. She had wept unashamedly before Sade as she poured out her mind to the latter that day. After it all, Sade had offered to 'pray with' her and truly, she had felt better afterwards.
"The only result you can use to silence them is your success," Sade had said pointedly in a solemn way as she had placed an arm on Moriah's shoulder and looked at her friend unwaveringly.
That direct and straightforward look and submission had built up something unquenchable in Moriah. She had braced herself as head held high, she had said solemnly to her 'small but mighty' friend, "And succeed, I will, my friend!"
"Amen!" Sade had smiled as she patted Moriah's shoulder.
Moriah smiled as she remembered her dear friend. They had grown closer over the years. She prayed that Sade would remember to bring back the bicycle her uncle promised her. She had promised to teach Moriah how to ride a bicycle when she returned from her trip to Ibadan where she was currently spending her two weeks holiday. Sade was a free-spirited being who loved adventure. Moriah could not help envying Sade her privileged parents. She eagerly looked forward to learning how to ride Sade's bicycle. She smiled as she remembered her friend's attempt at hair plaiting. That's another aspect she still had to coach Sade, whose last attempt on her own mother had failed woefully. Moriah had had to make the long trek to Owerin, where Sade lived, to help her mother redo the hair. That day, Moriah had eaten a delicacy called 'pancake'. She licked her lips even now as she remembered how delicious it had been.
"Oh, Sade, come back soon," she muttered audibly as she headed indoors.