The Introduction

“He’s running late”, Lilly thought as she wiped the sweat from her brow. The introduction had started at 2 in the afternoon, relatives and well wishers had begun streaming into the compound hours before, she’d given them invitations that said 11am, knowing that some would arrive late. She hadn’t anticipated that he would be one of the latecomers! “What’s taking him so long?” she muttered in growing frustration, “I made sure everything was laid out for him, I left the Agbada on the bed, I even made him Amala and Gbegiri for breakfast, what could be taking him so long?” She knew the answer, but she waved her hand slightly to dispel the thought. “He wouldn’t go and do that, not today of all days”, he had a habit of shirking responsibilities and dodging the big occasions, preferring to hide away in a local beer parlour and drink Chivas-Regal from the gold flask she had bought him, a silver Marlborough dangling between the knuckles of his index and middle finger, with that sly, almost cheeky grin on his face, his legs crossed beneath the dirty, off-white plastic table. “There aren’t any of those nearby, he’s probably stuck in traffic.” She said to herself, she was trying so hard to stay calm, but she knew, it was Saturday, and the traffic between Festac and Ikoyi, even on the worst of days, would never delay such a journey for more than 2 hours. “Where is the boy?” She heard her father’s voice before she even felt the coolness of the breeze his kaftan blew, gently caressing her body and moving the beads of sweat forming on her brow, and before his large, pot bellied frame cast a shadow that gave her brief respite from the Harmattan sun. “Tinuke, this boy is trying my patience!” the pitch of his voice told her he was only mildly irritated, not even a late groom could spoil the occasion, truly, of his first daughter’s introduction. He would have happily waited all day for the boy, no matter what he happened to think of him. “I’m sure it’s traffic, Daddy. He’ll be here in a few minute” she spoke the words more to soothe her gradually degrading nerves than to reassure her father.
 She heard the faint roar of his BMW and all her fears disappeared, immediately to be replaced by butterflies, she couldn’t wait to see how handsome he would look in the Agbada she had made for him, with his Italian shoes and crooked cap, she couldn’t suppress the faint squeal that escaped between clenched teeth. “Your Husband has come!” Her mother was doing an even worse job of hiding her excitement. She could see the baskets being brought in, and the Crystal jars of honey, all bought and arranged by her, she had a talent for such things, they came so naturally to her, she beamed with pride as the baskets were placed in front of the canopy, on an elevated platform so that all could behold the beautiful gifts the groom’s family had bought for the bride’s. Now it was time for Timothy to make his grand entrance.

When his right foot stepped into the compound, her mouth fell open in shock, her fist closed tightly around the handkerchief she had been using to fan herself and occasionally wipe the sweat from her brow. At this moment it was all she could do not to tear it in two. “Why must he do this to me?” She thought to herself, she already began to mourn the death of her reputation, “Her husband can’t even dress properly”, they would say, “He showed up looking like a vagabond, an unclean, uncouth lowlife!” “Òlórun má jé!” She could already see the women, mouths agape, subtly touching their heads in a mixture of confusion and disgust.

* * *

Timothy had woken up to see the beautiful garment his beloved had laid out for him, extravagant colours, with heavy embroidered details all over the garment, gold shining in every direction, and the shoes were Moschino, the finest Italian leather, studded, and brushed to an immense shine. He quickly showered and danced his way into the clothes, already anticipating the look on her face, then he stopped in front of his mirror to admire himself, he looked good, but his smile slowly began to fade, turning to a scowl, his hands moved slowly over the clothes, they felt foreign to his touch, he never wore such things when patrolling on his farm, or even in meetings with business associates, he’d never worn such clothes! “This isn’t me; this is not me!” He exclaimed, “why should I present a false image to the family of my beloved bride to be? I will not pretend to be someone who flaunts his wealth for recognition, no, I must go as I am, so that they know what I really look like, else they wouldn’t recognise me on the street tomorrow.” He hastily discarded the unfamiliar garment, folding up the embroidered material and put on his favourite khaki trousers, followed by an old blue shirt he’d bought in the local market almost a decade ago, he wore no watch, and slipped on his ever familiar leather slippers, the same attire he had donned for the important meetings, and even on his farms, he had never worn anything dissimilar, this was the real Timothy, the man whom her parents would recognise instantly, no matter where they happened upon him. With pride, he strolled out of the house and called his driver “Emmanuel, oya let us go!” The driver knew something was amiss, “But oga, shebi today na your engagement, abi?” he asked with a puzzled look. “My friend, just shut up and carry us to the venue jor! Don’t be asking me stupid questions.” The driver dropped his shoulders in defeat, he knew madam would be upset, he had taken her to the tailor to pick up the expensive Baba Riga that oga was supposed to wear today, “This my oga is too stubborn!” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head in dismay as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “Na so we no go hear word now because him no fit wear traditional, choi!” He dreaded the look on everyone’s face when they saw his boss turn up clothed as he would be for a day on the farm. He was still shaking his head as he started the car and reversed out of the compound.

* * *

Lilly was close to tears, “why would he do this after I told him over and over again how important his first impression would be on my family?” Her grandfather was already fidgeting in his seat, close to eighty, he had been excited to meet the man who would marry his first grand-daughter, his eyes were weak, but upon laying eyes on the unfortunate fellow, he wished he was blind! “What is this I am seeing? Tinuke, is that the boy, or are we waiting for somebody else?” Her mother was also confused, “He looks like a desk clerk, and I thought she said he was Tiyamiyu, son of Adebisi? This must be a mistake!” The whole crowd had begun to murmur and a low rumble began to build, quickly, the bride’s mother signaled to the band to begin playing to silence the crowd. As the drums started, attention slowly shifted to the starting festivities, grievances would have to wait, there would definitely be a family meeting once all of the guests departed.

Lilly was gritting her teeth, her complexion and heavy make-up disguised the blood rising in her cheeks, she would never forgive him for this, or so she thought, but in her heart of hearts she knew, she had never seen him in anything else, the man she’d fallen in love with never wore anything else, she began to wish she had simply opted to buy him a fresh pair of trousers and a new shirt, and insisted on a pedicure. He should at least have looked more presentable, and less like a village schoolteacher. As she knelt next to him for the prayers to begin, she recalled the words of James Baldwin; “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced”. She had known, deep down that he would most likely pull something like this, she had been optimistic, talking to him sweetly, buying him all his favourite food, taking care of him for weeks, just so that he wouldn’t pull his usual philosophical nonsense on her- the one time she had tried to get him out of his old clothes, he’d given her a speech so complex, a room full of professors would have struggled to keep pace- so she knew, but she wouldn’t relent, she had to look ahead to the traditional wedding…