The memoirs of a Chief Brides’ Maid Part 3

I can remember always asking the bride, what are we going to wear on the traditional wedding day? And she did not know! I asked her, don’t you watch Nollywood movies? We need to know!

On that fateful day, I knew! I woke up to the smell of different food in the air. I woke up to bright faces and colorful clothes on the bed. The bride was wide awake as she looked at me and said, this is what you will be wearing my Chief. I picked the beads up and then the wrapper. Yes, you read right! The ladies who would be going out with here would be wearing wrapper round their chest. Are we going to be wearing a top on top? She said no. I asked again, can I wear a top on top, and she said no.

I decided to assimilate the information another way and took a peek outside the room. The canopies were being set and things were in motion. I asked how I could be of help and they said, I needed to ensure the bride was dressed on time, the other ladies and guys who would be going out with her, were all ready and we were out when the MC called us out.

Since I had never been to an Igbo traditional wedding, I asked one of the many women around what the order of the day usually entails. She replied back saying ‘The bride stays inside and the dancing train with her as well. Then the MC would make mention of her to come out. She is to dance out and round. She is no hurry as she is to show her dancing skills as she greets everyone and dances back inside. She changes her clothes, touch up her makeup and at this point, we should ensure she has packed her clothes because after the traditional marriage, she is packing her bags and following her husband to his own village, that night.

The second stage of dancing starts from her dancing towards her father. She kneels down and gets the covered cup of palm wine from him. She is then required to scout the crowd and look for her husband. This is to prove to everyone she knows who wants to marry her and who she wants to get married to. She hands him the palm wine and they dance around and proceed to the bride’s parents and the MC takes it on from there.

I asked her my last question, so what would the dancing train do throughout all this, she said, they dance like there is no tomorrow. Not upper body dancing, but lower body dancing and all I could say was ok.

After the necessary, it was time to start trying out my wrapper and beads. The bride was the QUEEN of the day. She had a specific aunt we usually called Gadaffi, and not because she was a terrorist but because she was a tornado of energy. Aunty Gadaffi was an exceptional aunty even if I am not related to her, her love and care was shown to everyone. Aunty Gadaffi was on the bride. She was transforming the bride from hair to makeup to dressing. She had her eyes on me as well and was screaming when she said she could not see my red lipstick emphasising as always that she wants me to get married next.

The rest of the dance ladies started coming in and getting dressed up and it was beautiful chaos. The makeup with the dress malfunctioning, with the beads all over us and then the camera men/videographer knocked.

I have never encountered such men in my life. I thought photography simply entitled the subject to pose and pause to get snapped but no way with these men. They wanted to take every picture from you painting your eyes to you yawning. I had to do slow motion when putting on the Bride’s shoes and slow motion when putting on her beads that has been worn before but they wanted us to take it out. These men definitely knew what they were doing and we were feeling the short end of their stick.

When everyone was ready, their cameras did not take a breath. It was one picture after another until we got the call.

The appointed time had arrived and the dancing train formed two lines as the bride stayed in the middle. Aunty Gadaffi gave me a big fan and said I must use it to make sure the bride does not sweat, so while you are dancing, you are fanning her. That should be easy I said to myself, only if I knew. She also said I must make sure her beads don’t get all messed up, so in summary I am to dance like there is no tomorrow, fan the bride and ensure her beads behave all at once, that’s my specialty. Multi tasking.

The boys start dancing in front of us and then the line started moving dancing. We had some family aunties in front speaking to us with different instructions, slow down, wait, do her beads, move faster  what kind of song are they playing? And that is what I agreed to. How can you want us to move our waist down like we are being torn apart and you are not playing the music that would motivate us? Even the bride after a while said, she wasn't going to dance again until they changed the song, and at this point I said, not good. I told her let’s keep dancing, they would change the music. She wanted to dance to the song her mum used when she came out to dance earlier.

Our request was granted and the dancing began. This dancing did not have a part 2. I was not sure what I was doing but with the continuous stare of Aunty Gadaffi, it should be a not so good job. I looked at the other ladies and I knew I wasn't in this league of shaking. Someone told me later I was dancing as an eagle, oh well, am glad she didn't say chicken.

I was wiping sweat, fanning, adjusting, dancing, slowing down, moving faster, dancing harder, bending down, making sure my wrapper wraps well, looking at other ladies, making sure we were doing well, and then we went round the whole wide circle, with a big smile, sweat like rain and danced till the door of the house.

Guess who was awaiting us, the photographer! I left him to look for the nearest air conditioner.

Aunty Gadaffi said we were going out again, and some of the ladies had already started getting their beads off. Exhaustion was the word, they didn't see that coming. I had to also pack my bags in this short break because I knew I was following the bride to her husband’s village, Nnobi in Anambra State. A trip I was looking forward to, I was going to my hometown but not local government, not that it made any difference, just so when am asked when last I traveled to my village I can add this to it.

The round two was the same as round one with a difference. As she took the palm wine from her dad, and looked for her husband, there were other men raising their hands indicating they were the one and she would act like she wants to give the cup but walks away. Then she finds him. He was inside surrounded by friends and we danced on the spot as she went to serve him. So romantic.

They both came out dancing and I refuse to comment on the groom’s dancing skills. It is a well kept secret that she is the better dancer...oops!

They dance to the brides parents’ seat and kneel down in front of them. Her father started by saying that if you raise your hands on our daughter, I would come and look for you. Her mother said I am not looking for a son-in-law but a son. Take care of our daughter as you can see she is very special. They advised their daughter and at this point, I teared up. They prayed for them and they got up to cut the cake.

I forgot to mention that for all the dancing, there was money being sprayed. U.S.A. and UK were duly represented in currencies so no need to feel left behind.

The cake cutting commenced, the MC made the joke that killed all my laughter cells. He said ‘When an Engineer marries an Engineer they give birth to engines’. No wonder he isn't a comedian.

I left the celebration at this point because I was picking up the money lieing around and needed to give it to Aunty Gadaffi for keep sake and also needed to eat. We had not eaten and I wasn't about to lose any hope of eating my well coveted suya. Only if I had known Uncle George (Bride’s brother) had kept a portion for us and that was what we all munched on our road trip from Mbaise to Nnobi!

They started looking for me as they wanted to start the road trip on time for security purposes even if we have Mobile Policemen with us. I rushed out with my bag, water, and suya, and I passed lots of people rushing for gifts as I entered the car.

The next journey began.

Stay tuned  for Part 4