THE LAST WEDDING
Written by Bright Daniel
She isn’t physically strong, her body typology made it obvious because she’s not just fair in complexion
but also had a delicate skin. Her beauty is incomparable, tracing from the long Brazilian hair and fixed eyelashes with a little make-up which vividly escalated the appearance of a Marin queen from her. All
these qualities she possessed was as a result of her family background; they were not only rich but wealthy too.
She rested on her bed with her two legs folded like a Muslim reciting Quran in a mosque.
She wore only a bombshort and a white top like singlet which exposed the hand of her black bra. She was actually on a phone call when the mother barge into the room and called on her, “Chisom!”
“Yes, mum!” she hung up the call instantly because the way in which her name was exclaimed by the
mother indicated that something was terribly wrong.
“Who were you with on the phone?”
“Is my course-mate who I told you is getting married soon and I’m her chief bride’s maid”
“Hey!” the mother exhaled. “This marriage or wedding has entered into your brain. Every time wedding
wedding wedding, you keep attending other’s wedding but you’ll never plan to have yours.
This particular wedding that is coming up has made you lose your sense of reasoning! Now, do you remember you put something on fire?”
Hearing that, Chisom jumped up from the bed like a amphibian escaping from a reptile. “I totally forgot,
mum!” she hurriedly entered into the kitchen while the mother shook her head negatively and closed
the door to leave but suddenly returned to the room, picked up her daughter’s phone to know the last
caller. She saw the name ‘Abigail’ then dropped back the phone. Among all the wedding ceremonies her
daughter attended both when she was an undergraduate and as a graduate, there was something
strange about this particular one she wanted to attend, but she couldn’t put a finger on it.
Nigeria is a great country where great things also happen. People die in several ways that, even me, the
writer of this story, wonder if actually God is alive. People are slaughtered like cows, die in the quest of
looking for a job, in the hands of their best friends and in birthday parties and wedding ceremonies.
This was an experience Chisom was about to get into. But you know what they say, “Experience is the best
Mr and Mrs Desmond, Chisom’s parents, could been seen inside the bedroom. It was late hour in the
night, the dimness of the sanctum could testify for that. Only the light coming from a plasma television
opposite their matrimonial bed made few things visible in the room. Mr Desmond was actually awake
watching midnight news when the wife, Esther, woke up after stretching her body. She sat up.
“Yes?” the husband replied without a glance at her.
“We need to discuss about how to get our daughter married. She’s not getting younger”
“Women!” Mr Desmond lowered the volume of the television. “Aren’t you the one who insisted that
your daughter gets married to a rich person instead of the young poor guy called Ubiji who wants to
marry her, but you and your daughter have practically kicked him off your sight. What else do you want
me to do?”
“You have connections, you can connect her with..”
“Never will I do that. Chisom is old enough to know what is good for her” the husband interrupted and
raised the volume of the television moderately. The wife had no choice but to go back to sleep too.
The following morning, Ubiji prepared to visit the girl he claims that had taken his heart. He was just a
common teacher even though he wishes to be a lecturer one day. Even at that, he had a bigger dream of
being a famous actor because God endowed him with the talent of act.
He approached to the gate of the residence of Mr Desmond looking like a cooperating teacher; a white
long sleeve shirt well tucked in in a black plain trousers. A red and blue pen rested in the front pocket of
the shirt, that, even a mad man would understand his profession without being told. Luckily for him,
immediately he got to the gate, the gateman opened it for Mr Desmond to drive out. He stood by the
side waiting for the car to come out before proceeding. He waved at Mr Desmond even though he didn’t
see him because of the black and reflective nature of the car glass.
Desmond whined down the glass. “How are you, Ubiji”
“I’m fine sir” he smiled replying the greeting. Mr Desmond had been the only one who makes him feel
welcomed, so the smiles on his face wasn’t factitious.
After the greetings, the car drove out. Ubiji slowly walked into the large compound twisting his hands,
he was actually nervous because that wasn’t his first time of going there and disgraced by Chisom and
her mother. Before he stepped into the frontage, Mrs Esther, Chisom’s mother barked.
“Hey hey hey, where do you think you are going to?”
“I.. I.. I came to see.. hum.. Chisom” he stammered.
“Have we not warned you not to come here? Just go away! My daughter doesn’t want you. How do you
want me to say it? You are just a common classroom teacher. Have you conducted the morning
assembly before coming here?” she laughed at him in mockery manner.
Just before Ubiji said a word, a soapy water from upstairs poured on his body. Aminu, the uneducated
Hausa gateman, witnessed the shameful act. Ubiji looked up to see Chisom with a bucket, obviously, she
was the one who poured the water.
“The next one gonna be acid if you don’t make a U-turn” she warned from upstairs.
“Aminu!” Mrs Esther called on the gateman. “Take this idiot out!”
However, Ubiji had began to leave the compound slowly. He made several pauses on his way out which
provoked Aminu to the extent he was forced to push him, yet, he kept making several pauses on the
“Oga, make I dey go my house na! I dey go, I dey stop, I dey go, I dey stop, whalai, I be push and follow?”
Ubiji neglected his uncomprehending statement, looked back for the last time and went home thinking
about how he met Chisom..
That was a faithful Sunday morning, he saw her struggling with her car tyre which stocked into a gutter
at a programme he was invited to by his friend. As a gentle guy, he approached and help her out.
“Thank you” she had said.
“Welcome” he replied.
“How may i pay you back?”
“Just grant me the permission of taking you out”
She smiled then both exchanged contact, but the very moment Chisom learnt that he was jut a teacher,
she began to avoid him..