“I paid 10,000 cedis to rent this place for the wedding reception.” the groom told me.
“Wow! That’s a lot of money.” I remarked.
In my mind, I was calculating how many months it would take me to raise that amount of money. At least 12, if I were determined to keep my salary whole without bursting any part to quench rent, food and other necessities. Someone was spending that on location! Food, drinks, car rentals and other costs had not yet arrived.
That late Sunday afternoon that I was with the groom, we were headed for our usual meetings. In this country, weddings are organized differently from the way we do ours back home. Here, would-be couples select someone as Chairman of the Marriage Preparations Commitee and help that individual to select people to head subcommittees. These subcommittees are usually close friends and relatives the couple trust that they have good intentions and hearts that wish to see them succeed on their Big Day.
I was invited to be part of a sub-committee. I think Logistics. And it sounded so big and important to me until I attended the first meeting and realized it was all about lifting heavy equipment and doing the donkey jobs on the Big Day. I felt insulted.
Perhaps I might make great connections there, I encouraged myself. But at the meeting, most of the committee members were married women and the only lady of my age I saw there was an employee of the rented event grounds, a pretty lady all the married men were sniffing around for the slightest opportunity to get her number.
The groom and I strolled through the beautiful gardens of the event grounds. Truth be told, the place was worth the cash. A serene atmosphere full of greenery in the middle of a busy and noisy city. The view from where we sat was impressive. We were on a hill and below us swam a gentle river in a little valley, slightly sandwiched between the event grounds and giant skyscrapers across the river banks.
In the distance was a chocolate factory whose sweet aroma drifted softly towards us.
Further down was an oil refinery with intermittent flares from flare stacks glowing in the falling darkness.
There were always latecomers to the meetings, and they always had convincing reasons for their lateness. Sometimes, there were a lot of arguments and heated debates about the best strategy for a successful wedding reception and I feared for the D-day.
In this country, weddings are conducted by the mayor or a representative, and the event is usually very brief. So the wedding reception is the main event that required most of the resources and careful planning.
I noticed that unlike in my native country, over here, lovers tend to live together, have children and only officially get married many years down the road.
On one hand, I thought it was a good idea as the rate of divorce is very low. The couple have spent many years together and in their latter years no partner was leaving the other to go anywhere.
I know friends who disagree with me, but it’s my perspective though.
Our meetings go on and on and lasts for about six weeks. Soon, the unfamiliar faces became familiar and I made friends, much to my displeasure most of them were men. I discovered one of the commitee member was a neighbor to the bride and they were of the same nationality. The rest of the committee members were from the grooms’ family.
It seems the groom’s father came to this land many years ago to hustle and has succeeded in establishing a solid family business that he has left in the care of his children when he died. The deceased hero of the extended family sent many of his children abroad and the groom was one of the sons left behind to manage the family business.
Many of the employees were his cousins, nieces and nephews and they were present in their numbers at the meetings to ensure that his wedding was smooth and perfect.
One of the main point of disagreement at our meeting was the fact that the groom’s younger brothers married earlier and their weddings were the talk of town. The same family members that helped organize those functions were present in this new committee and wanted things the way they knew was best done.
No wonder the wedding preparations commitee Chairman had to keep reminding us all that this was not the first wedding he was organizing and should be allowed to run this show with his customizations.
“If the couple didn’t have faith in me, they wouldn’t have invited me to chair this commitee.” he reminded the attendees.
After the meetings, there were a lot of murmuring and at a point, I thought the groom regreted his selection of the Chairman for the committee.
But I think he was confused. It was his family versus the wedding planning committee chairman and his friend who was also his vice.
“I saw him organize one wedding I attended and I loved the way he organized everything, that’s why I invited him.” the groom told us, indirectly patting his own shoulders in hopes of clearing the clouds of confusion that hang over him.
The night to the D-day, a huge truck from a popular brewery came to deliver huge cylinders of unprocessed beer, rich, raw, natural. Other cartons of red wine came and tonnes of soft drinks. It was obvious this was going to be a mega wedding and one need not be told VIPs were coming.
The bride worked in a big multinational corporation and perhaps the groom wanted to honor her when her work colleagues showed up.
That night to the wedding, we worked and worked and worked. So many people were at the wedding planning committee meetings with brilliant ideas as to what to do and what to avoid but when it came time for action, all of those voices were no where to be found. Only a few willing hands.
Many left. I, the Chairman and his vice were the only ones who stayed back to put the final details into place. Around 1am, we left, exhausted. The decorator was still working. He had another wedding to work at the following day so he had to use the night to finish up every decoration that had to be done. We all feared for the rain, praying hard that it won’t rain on the wedding day or this night.
Thankfully, the Chairman lived in my neighborhood. While we were going home with his best friend, we stopped by a restaurant that operated late into the night to grab a bite. We met the groom’s younger brother there. He too was hungry after rounds of preparations and had come there to get some food. One large meal was ordered for all of us with a full roasted chicken, well roasted and well-spiced. We ate together with some chilled beer on the side.
I didn’t drink, but that night was not a night for upholding principles. I wasn’t ready to die of hunger in the name of principles. Rules are meant to be broken and it was an honor breaking this one.
While we ate, the groom’s brother updated us on a few development. For instance, the bride was kept in some sort of secret place for a number of days undergoing special treatment so that she will appear fresh for her husband and the rest of us who already knew her. He also told us the groom was at home worried about the kids since their mother was away but they had to force him to rest before his D-day while they got someone to cater for the petty problems of the house.
Finally, we were done and I was dropped off at a junction leading to my house. It was very late and quiet. I was typically not scared of walking alone in the dark. But on this night, I didn’t know why I was a bit scared. I couldn’t remember a time I was outside by that time alone. Maybe that was what made it scary. You can’t imagine my relief when I finally got to my room. I quickly sent the Chairman a message that I was home.
From studying the chairman and his friend and paying attention to their call conversations, I was convinced he was a womanizer, he and his friend, and it wasn’t a coincidence they walked together.
My observations were on point when I later saw them trying to get the number of one married woman. To my surprise, she gave them her contact. But the way those two went about taking contacts of ladies at the wedding ground showed that they had been in the business for long and knew their trade very well. So discreet.
I wondered if they were not happy in their marriages. If they were, , what else were they seeking in the new women they kept chasing?
Despite their flaws, when it came to work, so far as the wedding was concerned, those two were exceptional. They worked like donkeys, putting aside the fact that they were the leaders of the committee. They did every work no one else would do, taking the preparations for the wedding very personal. I admired that part of them. When you see the kind of seriousness they attached to their work, you can easily forgive every flaw you spot in them.
Then came the D-day. It came slowly. We all feared it might rain and everything would be ruined. The groom had told us earlier during our meetings that we shouldn’t be afraid of the rains. That it was just a matter of seeing one old lady in their family and the problem was solved. His tribe was noted for black magic charms and we didn’t consider his words as a complete joke, though we all laughed about it.
Work on the wedding grounds was tough. We run in all corners to do what was humanly possible. The annoying part was those who never showed up to help with preparations suddenly showed up to tell us what could have been done better.
Everything started smoothly till the ceremonies at the mayor’s office and at the chapel were over and the reception was now to begin. As usual, it all seemed problem-free till it was time for food and drinks. Some people tried to hoard some of the wine and food. This was Africa, where anything declared free attracted hands and feet like bees. The distribution of food nearly erupted into volcanic fights.
When the VIPs, mainly from the bride’s workplace, arrived, there was some calm. But the calm is to be attributed to the expertise of the Chairman and his friend.
The chairman had to put some background work he was doing to go and deliver a speech to the attendees. It was a beautiful gathering and a lovely wedding reception.
It was nice seeing all the faces that fought during the planning dancing and smiling as they ushered the bride and groom to the wedding reception grounds.
I saw invitees I was at loggerheads with and I tried my best to hide my face.
Unfortunately, some of those selected to be ushers didn’t show up and the chairman asked me to fill that role. It was a role bigger than me, considering the kind of guests who came for the wedding. Now I was face to face with a face I had long avoided.
“HI! “ I said, smiling my best fake smile as I welcomed my old friend-turned enemy. This was no place for settling old scores.
It was a long day. The plan was for the wedding planning committee members to be served when the wedding was over. But the event was dragging long into the night and I couldn’t stand the fatigue, exhaustion and hunger any longer. I went to get served and I sat on one table where the lights were dim to enjoy myself, washing the food down with some good wine.
I had worked so hard that day and earned the right to blow my own trumpet. Even the chairman was impressed and mentioned it to the groom later that evening when we were planning to leave the reception grounds.
“Is he your brother? “ the chairman asked the groom.
I was no relative of the couple yet I had worked more than one.
The groom hesitated for a while before saying
” Yes… He’s kind of part of the family now. “
I was given a bottle of expensive red wine as appreciation for my efforts, a bottle I kept in my room for days, taking gentle sips with ice dipped into the glass to render the taste a bit wickedly delicious.
As I look back on the wedding, all I see is an unforgettable moment, a wedding that stands out among many, and a story of ingratitude born out of a beautiful day.
There was a neighbor of the bride who had not been served and the queues were so long she gave up, feeling very disappointed at the turn of events. I knew her because I had met her at the bride’s home a couple of times. So, I went to personally get her what she wanted to eat and brought it to her with some drinks. I knew the caterers because of the meetings we had before the wedding. They were all present. She was so happy I was of assistance to her.
Then one day, while on my way from work, I was out of cash and needed someone to help me pay for my fare home. Her shop was by the roadside and I went to explain my plight, a very embarrassing scenario I gathered a lot of courage to endure. To my shock, she said she couldn’t help. I had come late. She just gave out all her money to buy some products. Meanwhile the fare was such a paltry sum even a child could afford.
But despite these happenings many days after the wedding at Baaltazar, I still have my empty bottle of red wine to remind me of what a great wedding that was, and how a few dedicated people can turn things around during a Big Day.
The bride had a bit of a sorrowful face that made her look kind of vulnerable. None of her family members came for the wedding. We didn’t know why. And people talk. They were murmuring, even at the wedding grounds.
It was her work colleagues and her bosses that were there in their numbers to support her. It was obvious that she was loved at her workplace.
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