When a man tells you he loves you. Be happy. Be content. You are greedy to ask for more.
When he tells you he wants to MARRY YOU. Ha! Be GRATEFUL. It is a privilege that one of the loose canons out there has noticed and decided to settle down…. and with who? you. Yes, you. you with all the comas and zigzags in your life. He chose you.
Burn incense. Pray hard. Fast hard. Read all those books. Do whatever you can to make him yours. It matters less; does it matter at all what you feel? Of course not!
Let me tell you what matters…ehen hen. What matters is that he wants to MARRY you.
Don’t you know, Oko won l’ode?
Then he proceeds, he introduces you to his MUM! His DAD! His FAMILY! Ha! Your ‘hardwork, your labour’ is not in vain. You are happy. He has elevated you. Soon you will be a wife. Nothing matters anymore.
You begin to look down on all those loose women/girls out there. Yes, they are loose now because they haven’t pinned down a man. Not a Husband. You, you are no more loose. You are now ‘tight’ automatically.
Even though you are sceptical that all ‘these’ can indeed be happening to you. You do not hesitate to throw in snide comments among your mates that you have a MAN in your life. You want them to envy you. You need not try at all. You are envied already. It is not beans to bag a man. Let alone one that wants to be earnestly married. These mates , they are in their 30s, yet no man.
But you, you the young one at 26 (even though by next month you’ll be 27), you have clutched a MAN. Again he is not the type to delay. With the look of things by December, b’ope titi, January, you are married. You would be a MRS. An IYAWO.
You are happy. Despite your hustling…all those ‘sare wa gba’, your Eleda has been working for you.
By the way, you only feel young when you are with these 30 something year olds. When you step out there, you see all these teenagers (who have defied all means to age), these young girls 20-22 dating the man you should be married to or at least be dating, you feel old. Really really old. Older than 30 infact.
You are helpless, despondent. You remember your swollen face. Your belly fat. Those mini folds around your tummy that prevent you from wearing a fitting blouse or dress. You remember your broad chest that harbours two small breasts and are so wide apart from each other (you often wonder what man would like these or how it would pleasure any man). You are elated when two men out of all your trial and error boyfriends, your ‘sa re wa gba’…only two of them like it.
In your escapist world, you tell yourself, your breasts is the reason they never stay. Liar. You remember your laps that are so full. You wish you had just a lil bit hips, it would make up for the ‘no space’ in between your thighs. And all those men would not have to comment (complain actually, usually with mild disdain) on how black your inner thighs are.
You think of all these and more and wonder, how can? How can any MAN want me for a WIFE? Ok, some MEN are senseless, but their mothers nko? SHE wants me for a DAUGHTER-IN-LAW. You look up, clasp your hands in air and mutter ‘ah! Eleda mi, modupe. Mo ti so rire’.
It does not matter that you have an ND in Mass Comm from The Polytechnic, Ibadan. And you are a good natured woman. And respectful. Still, you are worthless. No man in your life until now. And this One wants to stay.
Your mother will no longer call you names like ‘ashawo kobo kobo’, ‘olobo ji jo’na’… You are now a respected lady. Soon, you will be an IYAWO. Your father will stop secretly wishing he sent you to a higher institution since you can’t bag a good job or a MAN.
Job? You snort- you are paid #15, 000 and most times not when due. Your father is already scheming ways to suffocate the MAN, your Afesona all in the name of bride price.
You smile. It’s all over. You have a new name. A new status. MRS. IYAWO. As for your mother-in-law, you will worship her for accepting you. You will love her more than your mother. Infact you do already. You are forever indebted to her.
You log on to Facebook. Ah, this Facebook, what will you not see. A girl has just posted a seductive photo tagging your MR RIGHT. Your MAN. It tells a lot. Pictures tell tales. She passed the night with him. You ignore it. It does not matter. You know better. He chose you. You are sad for her. Your days of ‘sare wa gba’ are over. She has just started hers.
You feel this great victory inside you over all the unlucky ladies most especially your rivals-the teenagers, the 20-22 year olds. With all their every every they couldn’t bag a man. You have bagged one. It’s an achievement. A Victory really.
You briefly remember your student days- one of your lovers. You did not know you were one of his ‘sare wa gba’ at the time. No, he never said… I LOVE YOU. But your lovemaking was so passionate and so fierce and the way he looked at you, (now that you think about it, it was one of pity) you felt loved. He was the one who adored your breasts. You realised later on he did so only because the lady he intended to marry had two heavy things on her chest and he could never figure out how to handle it. So he adored yours wishing it were hers.
Until, another Lover got you a smart phone. Now you had constant access to Facebook. You check him out. He is married! Before the marriage the lady’s picture is all over his wall. He raved on and on about her endlessly. You remember even when you were not a picture person, because of the intimacy you thought you shared, you took pictures with him. He would delete them immediately. You were offended. But, what did it matter then. He made love to you like you were the only woman in his world. Even dropped hints about securing a good job for you while you pursued your HND and then a Masters Degree. You took it to mean ‘settling down’. At such moments, you felt guilty that you were cheating on him. Stupid stupid you. Even as you looked at the pictures on his wall, you ignored your hurt, rage… You told yourself, what were you thinking, that clumsy, worthless you could an Information Technology(IT) expert like him? You consoled yourself that if this robust lady can get him. You stood a chance. Four years after, you couldn’t, until now.
You snort again, remembering the other man who liked your breasts, teased your nipples even. Told you point blank that they reminded him of his wife. You were piqued. You ignored it. What mattered was that he liked your breasts at all.
It’s all over now. Your MR. RIGHT could have his sideshows. It did not matter. What matters is that he chose YOU. His Family knows YOU. You have no right to complain. You might ruin things. Your duty is to stay just tight. Stay faithful. Dote on his siblings. Lick his mothers feet. Soon, you’ll be in his house. You’ll have a HOME. That’s all that matters.