---Naija Gossip(Aproko): My Experience at the Wedding Party

Every Nigerian loves wedding ceremonies, no, that’s not right, every Nigerian loves wedding receptions and I am not afraid to generalize. You see, no one really likes to sit through three boring hours listening to the officiating minister drone on about cliche marital vows; no one and I daresay not even the couple because if you have very sharp eyes like mine, you might catch the groom dozing off every now and then.

There are two main reasons Nigerians love wedding receptions; one, everyone gets to show off their own style of the uniform asoebi on the dance floor and two, the food. We all look forward to the food.

On this day, my best friend and I were already seated at the reception hall. It was at a restaurant a stone’s throw from the church so the couple would have no difficulty or delay in getting here early. We weren’t really formally invited because when you belonged to House of Fellowship Christian Cathedral, one didn’t really need an invitation card to attend the wedding of a fellow member.

The hall was decorated in blue, white and red, chairs covered in clothing of the same colours. PSquare’s Beautiful Onyinye was blaring loud and dimming low intermittently, an indication that the engineers still had some wiring to perfect. The MC was testing the microphone every now and then. Women in bright red geles were laughing and gisting, their voices blending with the noise from the speakers, men in filas were greeting friends or typing something on their smartphones. It was the perfect ambiance of a party.

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We occupied the front seats, Funbi and I along with others that had come in earlier. By now, there was no vacant seat in front. Front seats were usually hurriedly taken by huge women and their anonymous friends, if one did not want the item 7 and souvenirs to pass them by. You know, the early bird gets the fattest worm . . .

“How long shall it take them to round up in church?” Funbi asked absentmindedly, her eyes glued to her Nokia Lumia phone.

“When they finish, they finish,” I replied evasively.

Thankfully, this couple did not take time at the church for barely fifteen minutes after my best friend asked, whispers went round that the couple had arrived.

The MC asked for a lady volunteer and then began to call out prominent people to the high table.

“They should make it snappy,” Funbi whispered a little too loudly when it was beginning to seem that the MC wouldn’t stop.


“Na wa o, all that rice will be getting cold by now.”

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Neither Funbi nor I wore the aso ebi though. We wore clothes synonymous with the theme colour but it was okay since there were several others in the room who weren’t wearing the aso ebi.

“Abi now. But the organizers of this party didn’t plan it well. Remember the last one we attended? Jennifer hooks Segun? It was buffet, serve yourself. This one, they didn’t plan well,” she added, raising her phone up to her face to take the thousandth selfie.

The fat woman whom we shared the table with casted what seemed like a chastening glance at us.

The MC now told us to rise in honour of the bride and groom as they danced their way in.

“Her hair is not fine sa,” Funbi whispered to me above the din of Sunny Neji’s Oruka.

“Her dress makes up for it,” I answered.

“If she had come to my shop . . .” The music drowned the rest of her words.

A few minutes later, the couple was seated at the high table, drinks were starting to go round, indicating that food would soon follow, Funbi was already bringing out a polythene bag from her purse, the MC was inviting the chairman of the occasion for a speech when I noticed a tall dark-skinned lady walking up the aisle to where the MC was.

My initial thought was that she had some business with him as people usually went up to whisper something in the MC’s ears. However, things took a different turn when quicker than a butterfly’s blink, her walk turned into a run a few feets away from the stage and she snatched the microphone from the talking MC’s hand, turned to the high table and faced its occupants.

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I elbowed Funbi, gave a nod for her to look forward. By now, loud whispers of confusion were going round.

“You!” the lady spoke loudly into the microphone, addressing the groom and startling everyone. “You thought you could easily leave me? after all your promises, ba?”

The people at the high table exchanged glances. The bride slowly turned to look the groom in an equally shocked face.

The MC tried to pry the microphone off her hands but her grip was firm and she roughly shoved him aside.

“You cannot marry her o. You lie. You cannot forsake me and our son for this pig of a woman! That is impossible!”

Funbi pinched me, I squeezed her hand, things were getting exciting.

“Ha! Mo gbe!” somebody cried out. It was the bride’s mother.

The bride herself looked like death walked over her. In a matter of minutes, she had transformed from this elated bubbling woman to someone that had just seen a spirit. The groom looked lost, like a stray toddler in the marketplace. His mouth agape, his hands spread out like someone who had just been caught stealing, his eyes darting here and there as if looking for someone to extricate him.

“This is going to be interesting o,” Funbi whispered mischievously in my ear...
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