by Demola Rewaju

When the pastor made the call for anyone who objected to our union to speak up or keep silent forever, I held my breath and tried not to fix my glare on anyone who could object….

I had always known I could marry her but like that joke about women looking for the fifth floor even though the fourth floor had men who met all specifications any woman would want only to go on to the fifth floor which existed only to prove that women could never be satisfied, I was in search of something better. I was to learn though that one can never improve upon that which God has given; that no man can find something better than what God has given.

Yes. God gave me this woman and no, I’m not now a believer in predestination and stuff like that but this wife I married is truly my own woman in so many ways.

Since I met her online in 2000, we’ve maintained an easy friendship that proved to be crucial when I would make my choice. She knows me in and out even though she had to take several sips of Alomo as she missed the questions about me at her Bridal Shower a week before our marriage. Her friend Toun Adeniyi had called me to ask them and made me promise not to divulge the answers to her. She didn’t even know my phone number off the top of her head! (Though I know hers). At a point, I hear, she insisted my favourite artiste was Beautiful Nubia but I’d told Toun it was K1 de Ultimate (that’s what I invariably tell tush people, just for the shock factor of seeing a ‘tush’ boy loving Fuji) so, she took another sip of Alomo for getting it wrong.

What she knows about me though are the more important stuff: she knows how I would react in any situation, she knows what’ll go through my mind as some silly neighbor tries to serve me neighbourhood gossip.

So I married her. After three months of counseling at her church, taking a bottle of wine to her father and introducing her to my folks. I didn’t propose officially – those imported romantic nonsense isn’t quite our thing but believe all the stuff lovestruck people tell us about their wedding: ours was indeed like a dream. When I raised her veil and I beheld her face as though for the first time, I whispered ‘wow’ and it wasn’t just because she had been made up into someone with fake eyelashes and stuff, it was more like the expression ‘so this is truly happening!’. When the pastor made the call for anyone who objected to our union to speak up or keep silent forever, I held my breath and tried not to fix my glare on anyone who could object. Some seconds before then (I later saw in the video recording) I was furtively looking all over the congregation to see any likely threat. Time froze. Time passed. And then: ‘if there is none, let everyone keep silent forever’ or something like that and I heaved an audible sigh of relief that got the stand-in bridesmaid (Tosin Kolade) laughing like crazy.

There had been a threat from an anonymous writer to the church laying all sorts of allegations about me and mentioning my relationship with a lady I had broken up with earlier. This was no small discomfort in the build-up to the marriage and I was somewhat apprehensive of what could happen. The lady actually called as I was about to say my vows – I just glanced at the phone as the pastor and usher looked at me disapprovingly and I passed the device to my younger brother/bestman. Tunde Leye sat a short distance aware, unaware of the fiction like drama that had played out around this marriage. He was one of my groomsmen, a great honour for me and my wife considering he’d forgotten my wedding date till I called him about twenty-four hours to the D-day.

At the reception, I sang Kenny Kore’s ‘Sucre’ as my friend for over two decades – Fola Atoloye (who also doubled as MC) played the guitar. It was a great honour to know everyone was there to make our joy fuller and I’m grateful to God and all who attended.

I won’t tell you about that night because even though I was tired, I fulfilled my marital duty. We’d had a Christian courtship and so it was our very first time in a way and it felt good to just lie in each others’ arms afterwards – no rushing to the bathroom one after the other to clean up or using a condom to prevent pregnancy. The sweetness was in my silent conscience that wouldn’t dare call this sexual union an act of fornication in any way – this was legal.

I don’t know what the future holds for us but I do know this: that as long as we stay friends, we’ll always be fine. That as long as we don’t judge each other we would never fear being honest with each other. Although I’ve known her for thirteen years, I only allowed my heart to love her two months ago when we had our formal family introduction. Some of us have hearts that have been broken so much they can never break anymore but only tear. My heart listens to my head and until my head saw that marriage was forthcoming, it didn’t tell my heart to fall in love even though I’ve loved her all along.

Two Saturdays ago on December 7th I got married to this woman but she’s not just my wife: she’s my best friend and confidante and I’m not just saying it – the way we chitchat and joke about almost everything is amazing even for me as I watched the video of the event today. Always whispering and giggling like little children…I guess that’s why it’s called being in love.

I’ll try and post more pixes in the coming days.

Have a smashing weekend my friends.

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This post is published permission from Demola Rewaju

 

Op-ed pieces and contributions are the opinions of the writers only and do not represent the opinions of Y!/YNaija.