THE BRIDE

'It is your marriage but their wedding' My aunty Nene told me when she noticed my deep frown. I gave a quick nod and busied myself with blowing air into balloons. 'Kpa', the balloon bursted and it jolted me into reality.
'You do that a lot' she said 'When you are angry you just shut everything out. Do you think that is a good strategy? You should learn to tell people how they make you feel'.
'You want to know how you make me feel? Mad! Just let me be' I exploded.
I stumped out of the room with the busted balloon in my hands looking like my broken heart.

My head was a mess. I lay on my bed, the smell of my pillow brought back childhood memories. How could I not have been grateful then. When I had nothing to worry about except what socks to wear to school, and what type of hairstyle to wear. The door creaked, my mother stepped in smelling like fried beef.
'Can I come in' she asked
'You are already in'.
She came in and sat at the edge of the bed. Her hair tie sat loosely on her head. It so badly irritated me. I never could understand why one could not properly tie a scarf and would rather prefer it sitting on the head like a frog about to hop.
'What is the problem? Why were you screaming at Aunty Nene'
I thought of several answers to give. I tried to figure out the shortest and simplest answer, one that won't lead to my mother's usual series of advice and talk on how a decent girl behaves.
'I didn't mean to shout on her, but you know how she likes making a big deal out of nothing'.
'That has not answered my question yet'
'She annoys me, with this useless it is your marriage but their wedding. Who is their. What nonsense is that? You know what annoys me more? I know where she got that line from. I saw the movie with her. She just keeps saying that to justify the fact that she is trying to make my wedding hers. She wants the theme color to be gold. She thinks it's better I do a buffet serving. She wants the cake to have the shape of a Palm wine keg? She is just too nosy'
'Why do you hold so much anger inside? You shut people out when you are angry. It's hard for you to say how you feel and when you let it out. It's shocking for the other party'.
Tears streamed down my eyes as the true reason for my frustration clicked. Aunty Nene wasn't my problem. The poor woman was just excited about the wedding.
'I don't want to marry him' I said in a quivering voice. 'He is a good man but I don't love him, I don't even like him' I cried, burying my face in my pillow. My mother looked askance at me. ' I don't understand you at all. Do you know you are the one that brought him to this house? What exactly is your problem?'
She spread her palms apart and began a long harangue. I heard her of course, but I refused to listen. I knew she went on about how I would later come to love him. She would tell me that I should be happy with the fact that I was going to get married at this age. Then she would refer to my cousins who were striking menopause, and are still unmarried. She would end the speech with a low tone, wide eyes, her hands on her hips, and her head stretched forward, saying 'Time is never on a woman's side. You have to grab the chance of marriage while you still can'.
When she left I heaved a sigh of relief. As though the devil just wanted to frustrate me further, my phone rang.
'Hello'. I said
'Baby how are you'
'I am fine'
'This one you are sounding like these, hope there is no problem' he asked.
'I am fine' I repeated 'Could you call me back am in the middle of something'
'Okay my baby, I would call you when I get home from the market'.
I dropped the call before he could say goodbye. How can I marry someone I can't even have a conversation with. Someone who pronounces 'picture' as 'pishur'. Someone who carries a bag around his neck like a fish seller. What was I even thinking? What? How did I allow it get to this level. The plan was to just indulge him for a while, now, I was two days away from wedding him. 'Jesus help me' I said almost bursting out in tears. Even money could not blind me this time. I can't spend the rest of my life with him. I might just kill him in his sleep. I needed a plan.

It is my wedding morning, my phone is buzzing continuously, my friends are everywhere in the room, caking their faces like they were the ones wedding; selfish idiots. It's time to execute my plan. Ralph, my supposed to be husband is in the opposite room dressing up. My mother walks in with a big smile on her face, she hugs me ostentatiously. Her is gele almost touching the roof, her face looks like a make up accident. 'You look beautiful' she says to me. I smile, I try to pity her, but I can't, she too is selfish, all of them are. I send a text message. In three minutes my plan would have been executed. 'Excuse me' I say to the hair stylist. Nobody notices me walk out of the room to the car park. I sight him, he is in a 2.2 Toyota camry. I enter the car and he speeds off. I am a runaway bride.