Posted: December 31, 2013 in Uncategorized

‘About to wed’.

That’s what it says in the brightly coloured poster on the car bumper.

It says nothing about the timeless ritual ,

 ageless, which man has observed since the beginning of time,

It is silent on the laughter,tears,sorrow..

the eternal cycle of emotions that has encircled this ritual since the dawn of ages,

It is mute on the eventual entwining of destinies,

The interlocking of souls,enmeshing  of spirits ,

Bodies and minds, woven and  interwoven.

The separation;

Where a man shall leave his parents and cleave on to his chosen.

The Unification;

 The joining of two as though they were one.

About to wed.


Her Father’s Daughter.

Daddy stands by my door,watching,

eyes wary,

As I pack the last of my bags.

We both realize;

him,standing at that spot,and me,sitting,on this spot;

That this will be our last standing as overprotective father and rebellious daughter.

And our first understanding,

As father and  grown woman.

His face is drawn and tired..yet his eyes sparkle.

 This man I’ve been at odds with for as long as I can remember,

 this man whose eyes threaten to shed tears.

 My heart aches.

Where is my tough badass dad?

The one I argue and fight with over everything and nothing.

The one who constantly criticises everything and anything..I do,

My ‘Man of the world,man of the house’ dad.

The one who has never shed a tear.

Where’s that dad? I can handle that one,not this dad,

Whose eyes show love and pride and sadness all at once.

Not this one,who makes me want to crawl into his arms like I’m five,again.

Not this one whose voice cracks as he says his last words of wisdom to a nearly married daughter.

He says softly,

 “Ifemi, marriage is bittersweet. Get over the bitter,but always manage to hold on to the Sweet.”

And then a heartbeat later,with a wicked glint in his eyes,he adds,

 “…but if that young man misbehaves,make sure you come to me. I’LL let him know who your father is!”

 That dad,this dad.

About To Wed.


Mom walks in amidst the chaos of confused makeup artists and nervous female friends.

My mother.

Hair streaked with grey and lips in a firm line,

 Oblivious to anything but her daughter seated tensely at the vanity mirror

She holds my eye for a few seconds in the mirror,and smiles.

She picks up a brush and begins brushing my hair,

We both conveniently forget that the last time she did that was when I was seven.

Years of laughter, tears, screaming and yelling at each other pass between us.

Years of showing her how much of my father’s daughter I am,passing blames back and forth,years of scolding and scolding.

 Years of a love-hate relationship,of being confidante,mentor,teacher..mother.

 My heart aches.

Funny how goodbyes change things.

And then it dawns.

I’ve always been loved this way and more,even.

I just never saw through the bitter side to the sweet.

“You are your father’s daughter,alright..and your mother’s too”, my mother says quietly.

I nod. A tear rolls down my face.

I hear a makeup artist screech.

I think i just ruined my new face job

 About To Wed.


I’m walking down the aisle.

Each step feels like a trip to the beyond.

Thoughts from ; Am I walking right? Will my gown rip if I stand with my legs wide apart?


What am I doing? I think I said yes too soon.Does he really love me?

Maybe he’s not sure too; float around my head.

Then ,I see my Chosen..he winks at me.

And its all worth it,

All the sad goodbyes ,the real tears and the fake ones,

Its worth it.

I realize I’ll probably spend the next half century of my life,

 Arguing,fighting and attempting to tolerate another egoistical male,

 claiming ‘man of the house’,so please,can I bend over so he can rest his leg on my head?.

My chosen looks at me like he knows exactly what I am thinking..and feeling.

He probably does.

And I can swear that’s a halo over his head,

Ok,so its just the lighting of the church.

Everything melts into nothingness as I stand beside him and he squeezes my hand tightly.


Or he’s probably just trying to keep me from bolting.

About To wed.

Daddy said,

“Marriage is bittersweet,get over the bitter but hold on the sweet.”

I say,

“Goodbyes are bittersweet,at first,its all bitter,

But wait a while,

Its aftertaste might just be sweet.

                                Her Father’s Daughter




  1. Olan says:


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