Journey To A New Beginning

The phone rang just as I was about to leave the lecture hall for my lunch. I had to poke around my handbag which I’ve fondly nicknamed ‘My Life’ because  it virtually contained everything that I’d need for like two weeks if I was on the road and had no time to get home. Ok, I exaggerated a little bit there.  Nevertheless, I had to poke through books, pencils, pens, cosmetics, jewellery, handkerchiefs, and... you know, things that  even other girls would cringe in disgust, at the mere mention of any living human ever moving around with such things on their person. I was almost about to give up the seemingly endless search for the god forsaken instrument of terror which kept screeching away not minding the fact that my classmates were now throwing furtive glances and even murmurs of disapproval towards me, when my fingers hit it.

‘Gotcha!’ I muttered pulling out the phone, hitting the green button and saying ‘hello’ almost at the same time only to hear nothing. I looked at the screen and guess what?  One missed call. I was almost mad with anger for not getting the phone on time until I checked the caller ID and then my heart skipped a bit. It was Nkechi Okonkwo, my old friend from secondary school. We’d been good friends back then, in fact, inseparable was the one word that could be used to describe us. After secondary school, we’d drifted as friends are wont to do, especially if they don’t gain admission into the same university. We still talked though, but once in a while.

Now, I know I should probably be happy that she wanted to speak with me after such a long time, but a part of me couldn’t help but think in terror ‘Oh no! Nky is getting married and she wants me to be on her bridal train!!!’. Ask me why I should think that? Well, If you were a girl like me who keeps getting calls from old friends requesting the exact same thing, then you’d probably think the same way too. Don’t get me wrong, I am not one bit jealous of all my friends who are getting married (everyone seems to be getting married!). I am truly happy for all of them. It’s just that when I think of all I have to go through to be on a bridal train I have to ask myself if it is actually worth it.

Last week I was at yet another old friend’s traditional marriage as one of her ‘asoebi’ and that had cost me serious cash. I had to spend close to fifteen thousand naira just to make my friend happy and at the end of the day, I had gone home telling myself for the thousandth time that this was going to be the last ‘asoebi’ outing for me. I have since then, developed this paranoia for that word such that the mere mention of it gives me goose pimples. I know that the only way to escape the ‘asoebi horror’ is actually to get married. I sure don’t want to get married, not just yet, but thinking of another ‘asoebi’ outing even makes the idea of getting married seem a little bit more inviting. Ok, but I shouldn’t panic at the moment. Maybe I should wait for her to call back and say what she has in mind. Who knows, she may be calling just to know how I’m faring then all this panic would’ve been for nothing. 

With this in mind, I went for my lunch.

Nkechi called me again much later in the day and this time, I was able to pick the call on the third ring.

‘Hmmm... Ifeoma, how are you??’ she asked in a breathless voice.

‘hey, Nky! I’m ok. It’s been a while’ I replied.

‘Yes I know my dear. How is everything?’

And so we kept on trying to catch up for a while, even going back in time trying to find out who was doing what at the time. Mostly, who was married and who had just given birth. I shuddered when I realised that almost all our mutual friends then in school had gotten married. It seemed as if we, Nkechi and me, were the only ones not yet married till she said

‘Ermm....Ify, there’s this big event that will be taking place at my hometown in about two months time....’.

Then I realised it was no longer the two of us but just me who was not hitched yet. I had to keep up the pretence though, just so it wouldn’t seem as if I was actually thinking about her getting married.

‘Really?? Hmm... Please which event is that?’ I asked as if I hadn’t guessed already, meanwhile I’d already started making up an excuse in my mind on how to avoid the whole ‘asoebi’ affair because I knew that that would be the next thing to come up. I could tell her that I won’t be in town around that period or that my cousin would be wedding around that period and I just have to help her plan her wedding, or even better, I’d be writing my ‘exams’ around that period. I was so busy trying to decide which one would be the best excuse to fit the situation at hand when I realised I was no longer listening  to what she was saying.

‘Sorry, I didn’t get that’

‘I said the event will be my Traditional marriage ceremony. It’s going to take place on the 12^th of December and I’ll really appreciate it if you’ll be one of my ‘asoebi’’ she repeated

‘O my God! Congratulations girl! Wow, it’s not easy!’ I gushed.

‘Here goes’ I thought silently. Will this never end?

I’d been through this same situation for six times this year and I knew basically what would come next. If I say yes, then she’ll thank me profusely, and then follow it up immediately by telling me that she has the material that we’d wear on that day and the price. I’d buy it from her of course, and then sew it. Maybe not the latest style but I wouldn’t want to be out of place when I get there so I have to tell my tailor to design something really nice which I’d have to pay for of course. Then, I’ll have to buy new shoes because the old ones won’t go with the new dress, then I’ll have to make my hair, maybe not the latest hair style in town but at least, one that would live up to expectations, it was going to be a grand affair of course and not forgetting that other girls will be at their best so, I would not want to be looking like one drab street waif on that day. And then the make-up. Oh yes, of course THE make-up. I have to look really perfect on that day so that I would be able to attract a nice young man who would be there to look for a wife, which doesn’t really make sense to me because I’m not even looking for a husband. 

Well, not everything we do in this life makes sense. So, for this simply stupid reason, I have to buy really expensive make-up so that I’ll look expensive enough to the fine young man, whoever he is. Then of course, I have to fix my nails which I don’t fix normally because everybody else would be fixing their nails and I don’t want to look like I can’t afford it...The expensive look remember?? Then I’ll have to think of the means of transport to her place, how to sleep away from my bed for at least two days. I’m no longer talking about the financial aspect here but the stress aspect. God, merely thinking about it was making me tired already.  

I wanted more than anything to scream ‘No dearie! I sure can’t do this again!’

But I thought of us back then in school. How we’d shared almost everything. We used to take turns sleeping over at each other’s houses. Nkechi knew the littlest of my secrets. My first period, my first crush, my first heartbreak, my first sexual experience...we shared almost everything like I said before. I still remember vividly how she stood by me when I lost my father, in JSS 3. How she seemed to always be with me to console me whenever I’d start crying. How she’d spent almost a month at my house taking care of me when I was so filled with grief to think of anything. How could I say no to Nkechi. She was and still is the closest friend I’ve ever had. Saying no was definitely not an option. 

So I found myself saying

‘Yes Nky, Of course I’ll be there. You didn’t even have to ask.’

So with that, I start preparing my mind for the stress and inconveniences as I listened to her go on and on and on about preparations and how she’d really need my help to run a lot of things since she would be in Port-Harcourt most of the time. I had to sigh out of relief when I finally dropped the phone.

Two weeks later she sent the ‘asoebi’ material to me. I had to do the usual stuff, like getting the material to my tailor and choosing a style. If only people know what stress I have to go through to pick out a style, they’d really understand why I hate getting new dresses and stop asking me to be one of their ‘asoebi’. Anyway, I finally agreed to pay my tailor a sum of 5000 naira for the dress, plus the 1000 I’d pay Nkechi for the material, now how much is that? I reminded myself for the umpteenth time that I was not going to look at the money because Nkechi has always been there for me and I’m sure she’d do the same for me. Next, I had to go shopping for the shoes, accessories for the dress and of course the make-up...never forget the makeup. Now, I probably won’t say how much I spent on all these things lest I start sounding like a miser or a really selfish person who can’t make sacrifices even for a true friend.

A day to the traditional marriage ceremony, I had to travel to her hometown where the ceremony was to take place with the directions she gave me. It really a bumpy ride from Enugu town to her village, added to hauling of my big travelling bag which I filled with all the necessary things that I would need for the whole weekend. Not only do I hate borrowing, I also hate bothering people whenever I come to stay over as a guest so I basically go with everything I would possibly need throughout my stay, down to my own slippers.

Nkechi was ecstatic to see me. She screamed in delight and rushed to hug me as soon as she saw me. For a moment, as we exchanged that embrace, I felt happy and I just completely forgot all the stress I had to go through to make it to her hometown. Her mom was delighted to see me after all these years, so were her brothers and cousins. Nkechi still as tall and slim as I remembered her. Fair skinned, full lips was looking really beautiful with the ‘about-to-wed’ glow, as I have fondly named the look. I was really dying to know how she met this guy who had finally captured my dear friend’s heart.  I was expecting to hear one very romantic story but it turned out she’d met him in Church, at her niece’s christening. We were still talking old school gists when she looked up suddenly, smiled and whispered into my ear in excitement

‘He’s here’

I didn’t need to ask who because, face it, who could it possibly be if not HIM? One look at her face and I could just tell how deeply in love she was with this man. He wasn’t bad looking at all. Tall, fair and handsome with a very charming smile and a touch of dimple on his left cheek. I felt really happy for Nky and for just one split second, I wondered what it would be like for me if I was in her shoes. Just as soon as that thought crept into my mind, I shrugged it off immediately. I still have a lot to achieve in my life and settling down at the moment will be a big setback for me. I was not ready for such a responsibility.

The long-awaited day at last. All the other girls who were supposed to be in the ‘asoebi’ train have arrived and we were all running around trying to get ready for the ceremony. Nkechi just finished taking her bath and was dressing up in her first attire which they call ‘welcome’ attire, meaning that she was supposed to wear that dress to walk out and welcome her husband and his people once they arrive. 

Then she would change into another attire called the ‘show’ attire. Now that’s where we come in. We’ll lead her out the second time to greet everybody else who’d come to grace the occasion then we’ll also help her sell eggs, sweets or gums as the case may be. After that she’ll have to go back and change into her third and final attire now called the ‘final’ attire. Her husband would be seated inconspicuously at the back of the crowd, wearing a dress made out of the same material. Then we’ll lead her out again to find her husband with a glass of palm wine which has been blessed by her father. 

Did I mention that we’re expected to dance our hearts out on each occasion? Well, yes, that’s what we are expected to do. I’m going to dance on my incredibly high heels which I can barely walk on and I’m so not looking forward to it. I could not wait for the whole thing to come to an end.

After the final outing, I could barely walk. I limped back into the house, collapsed on the nearest seat in sight and removed my incredibly uncomfortable shoes. I was massaging my feet and praying silently to God to forgive me for crippling myself when I heard;

‘hahaha...You walk terribly on those heels. I can tell you are not used to it.’

I looked up to see a tall, dark young man smiling at me mischievously. He had such an infectious smile and I couldn’t help but smile back even though I was annoyed that all my efforts to make it appear as if I’d been walking on heels since I was born had been worthless.

‘And I thought I had fooled you all’, I said still smiling

‘Nope. You certainly did not fool me one bit.’

I smiled again and continued rubbing my feet vigorously.

‘I just hope I haven’t caused some permanent damage to my poor, poor feet.’

He laughed. Even his laugh was wonderful too.

‘I’m Ikenna Okafor’, He said stepping forward and offering his hand for a shake.

‘Ifeoma Nwodo’ I replied shaking him. 

I can remember thinking to myself as we shook hands

‘God, I love the feel of his hand.’

* * * *

It’s almost a year and a half after Nkechi’s traditional marriage. A year and a half since I met my one true love Ikenna. I find myself getting ready to pick up my phone to start calling all my old friends, who are still single, asking them to come and buy ‘asoebi’ material for my own traditional marriage. In about two month’s time, I’d be getting married to Ikenna. I never thought I could be so fulfilled in my whole life. I’d always seen marriage as a huge responsibility which would just grind the rest of my life to a halt. I would have to face a lot of responsibilities like having and taking care of kids which would bring my dream to a halt.

Looking back at those days now, all my sensible reasons for not wanting to settle down seemed almost childish and senseless. Now, I see this as a whole new beginning for me. A fresh start. A better start at that because I will not walk this path alone. I have someone who would be by my side giving me strength and encouragement for what lay ahead. Instead of giving up my dreams, I found someone who was as passionate about the dream as I was and who believed in me. I sighed blissfully as I thought of this journey to a new beginning. I knew I would not be making any mistakes on this one for sure. 

My only regret was that my dad would not be there to witness the wonderful event.

I held my breath as I dialled Ukamaka Ndukwe’s number, and then slowly let out my breath as the phone began to ring.