Last weekend I attended a wedding and just before I settled, a friend of mine who I will call George, because that happens to be his real name, sidled up to me and asked me to write a wedding column. Suddenly I was converted from a guest to a journalist and ended up having absolutely no fun. So, George I would like you to know that you ruined my day at the wedding and I will look for a day that you have set your mind on 'enjoy' and will pay you back with interest.
That was not the first day my day at a wedding was ruined. I guess that weddings hate me because, before this wedding that George ruined, I had several go worse and it had been like eons since the last one I had attended. It happened that most of my friends were wedding and I was shuttling from one wedding to the next and finally, all my friends were coupled and amazingly they started feeling odd around me. So they started trying to hook me up and soon weddings started to sound like job interviews or TV auditions where everyone wanted to know who, where, when and all those journalistic questions they teach you to ask single unaccompanied friends at weddings.
Some very precious friends of mine started to introduce me to their relatives and it almost always went like "This is the second cousin of the brother-in-law of the bridegroom" with a lot of emphasis on 'bridegroom' so that I would be left with no doubt that this guy I was being introduced to was built of extremely marriage-able material.
I once was introduced to this guy who hailed from Othaya. From the way the intro went, I thought that I had hit the big leagues. This is a guy who was from the same village with the President and therefore my conclusion was that he must be Bak's nephew at the least. On our third date I could not hold my curiosity back because I thought that he was just being modest about his uncle, not like some folks who introduce themselves like "I am Phillip, the Sub-Chief's nephew. My mother and his sister are in-laws." So I asked my date how come he used his middle name and not his surname and if I never gouged my eye out with the fork on that day, I probably never will. The guy gave the name of my estranged dad! Oh, I know you think that I am suffering from soap-operiosis but this is the truth. The guy was my stepbrother.
After keeping away from weddings, afraid that the next time I might date my own nephews, I have decided that it would not be the end of the world after all and so I showed up at this wedding that George ruined.
One of the things that I like about weddings is that we church folk kind of loosen up and sing songs like mugithi . Not that we can't sing it in church, it just isn't the kind of song you sing during the Praise and Worship service, which is funny because the song originated in church. I would also feel like a fool singing it at the kitchen sink because traditionally, we sing it clinging to the waists of complete strangers(mostly of the opposite sex)not holding onto a plate or a cup or worse, scrubbing a sufuria. I also got to eat just about everything on offer without thinking about calories and just about stabbed myself in the head with a fork when I checked out the calorie sheet at home because I had gone six times over.
The only thing I think we need to chuck from the weddings are those meaningless speeches by relatives where in they come and review the newly weds lives and re-advertise the bride "This lady we are giving you is well mannered and comes from a good family (after they have ripped the groom's family with an exorbitant brideprice) as if they expect to find another suitor for her at her own wedding. The groom's family also rises to the occasion to say how grateful they are to have a daughter (some mothers-in-law hear enemy to be dealt with) and start to organize a terror group even before the poor bride arrives in her new home.
Next weekend I will be attending another wedding. And George, don't even dare to show up!