Obsessed


I had started avoiding conversations with some people. It is that bad that I don’t pick up the phone. Everybody here is simply obsessed with marriage. Until I got drafted to the drive time show at work, then I started to understand the depths of this obsession.

Recently, we had an edition  on our radio show with Chaz B titled “to what extent have you gone to get a man to put a ring on your finger” and believe me we were barraged with all sorts.
From women that buy an interesting kind of white powder from white garment churches and are instructed to smear it between their thighs, to tying up photographs and throwing it into the river. How can I forget the “kobnomi”.

Every seasoned professional in the world of haunting men for marriage at some point or another should have washed their private parts and used the fluids as stock to prepare a meal for consumption. This process is quite pedestrian in the grand scheme of things.

There were stories of breaking eggs, drinking eggs and eating eggs. The most exciting though was a lady that called, saying she had three men after her and she needed to know which of the men would be best suited as a husband. So of course she had been to a church for her first consultation which she paid for but she is still confused and wants to go for the second consultation. When we asked her why didn’t she just pray and wait, her voice became a couple of decibels higher as she informed us that she wasn’t willing to wait till she turned thirty, plus she was under a lot of pressure and we wouldn’t  understand.

There was a time when people indulged in voodoo for far complex things, like trying to kill someone, or just cursing a rivals family and unborn offspring. Now it seems  for anyone in need, there is a an Alpha, Babalawo, or prophet on speed dial. If you have a friend, she probably has a couple of complementary cards to distribute.
The need to be married has become a cause to declare “a state of emergency”.

It isn’t like I don’t understand the pressure. I have entered the second half of my twenties and I am very aware that in Lagos the ratio is now ten girls to one boy. But no matter what, there still has to be other things in life to embrace, enjoy and be besotted with. On my birthdays, my mother would normally call at midnight praying for me. This time around, she called not praying but stating “Unwana, success is already guaranteed for you. You have to find a man and manage, you can’t leave it too long. It is time”. Of course I listen to my mother’s rant and informed her that I have heard everything has said, knowing that she will be attending the Sacred Heart Of Jesus fellowship on a Wednesday praying fervently that someone will propose to me by December 31st.

Most of my male friends are completely terrified of women. They constantly whine that it seems like you can’t just meet a girl anymore, have a normal conversation and be friends without being accused of giving the wrong impression or being bullied into a relationship. I remember once, a friend and I were having a chin wag as to whether or not we needed to elevate from foundation to mineral powder, or up the ante on our high heels to obtain our pass into the coupling world. Our male friend who was gleefully enjoying his pounded yam and Efo Riro dropped his fork and with furry yelled “you women spend far too much of your lives talking and worrying about relationships, is it the end of the world, don’t you have anything else to do or talk about, na wa oo”. Though we burst out laughing as a result of his spontaneous combustion, he was telling the truth.

At work, I keep whining about the fact that I need a car, so that my okada hopping can come to an end.(in my head I pretend I’m on a Kawasaki Ninja) Rather than pray for me to get one or just damn donate to the car fund, they all start to pray for me to find a husband. It’s the same way we interviewed a lady with sickle cell who was made redundant by the company she worked for. Though she did mention that most of the guys she dated vanished once they found out about her sickle cell status, she got more prophesies about finding her permanent partner than actually getting a new job.

I’m more of an organic person and as clichéd as it sounds not all relationships are supposed to end in marriage. You meet people, if there is a spark and you are both on the same wave length, share similar values, interest and enjoy being around each other then you go for it. If it works out, fantastic. If it doesn’t, hopefully you can learn something from the relationship or perhaps salvage a friendship if necessary. Maybe you get to discover something new about yourself which is always a plus.
Life as an experience and journey has so much to offer if you allow yourself.

But I do accept that “to each his own”, so if white powder, eggs and vaginal juice cooking stock works for you, please do go ahead if you may. It just seems like an awful lot of work for things you have little to no control over.

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