Continuation from part 1
The happiness of our good fortune came at a very good time for the family. We were able to treat the children and still had a huge lump sum to start over again. The main agenda however, was to get to Nigeria and finalize this thing we started, and perhaps lay a few ghosts to rest.
The thing about having a big family is that it's easy for friends and relatives to dump their kids on you, but you can't do the same. Seriously though, how do you pawn off seven kids on anyone? Funny…huh? You've got to see the humour in this. So we had to look for someone, friend or relative willing to move in for a month or so to help keep an eye on our precious ones. We did not have to look for too long; rescue came in the form of Uncle Femi, Tobe's business partner and brother from another mother.
Our preparations soon began and I got my trousseau according to Victorian standards. Even though I was not quite privileged to their bank balance, I do a mean thrift and vintage that would rival any real fashionista, if you get my drift. All I really needed was a simple but gorgeous gown for the reception and a good Gina...they do great shoes you know. Now there was also the matter of nipping off to Austria for some very fine voil lace for both me and the hubby. As we do it folks, you all know there has to be aso ebis right? That's where my many capable sisters eight in total come in. This was going to be one bad ass wedding and they were hell bent on making it so.
Tobe was still hustling, seriously determined to get this new company of his off the ground and thanks to our newly found mini fortune, he had something to bank on. He left all the organizing to me, said we had to live on something after the big giving. I laughed it off, never quite understanding what he meant, but I did much later when we got home in Naija.
I found the most amazing gown: vintage Dior, but was not so lucky with the Gina. One out of two ain't bad eh. You would never believe the stunner I finally found in Next Bridal. As for the lace, I scoured Liverpool Street. Somehow the hills of Austria did not make much money sense after all, wind fall or not.
As lady luck always followed me, I must brag that I did A-okay with my finds as well. The children were buzzed about the whole wedding thing, though the older ones were a little curious as to why we had to do it all over again. Whatever happened to the Registry over at the Council office, mom, Timothy asked?
His aunt, his dad's older sister had to explain about the traditions, whilst Uncle Femi got the job of promising the others they would all come to Naija next time. "It's not fair mom" the twins moaned in their silly whinny voices..."How come David goes everywhere?" "That's because he's the baby" uncle replies. Duh! Timothy teased.
The house was bustling with the usual crowd of kids dashing in and out, and my in laws who were now frequenting more than usual considering the coming event. Things were been taken care of this but we had to have help on the ground there in Naija and that was resolved by my lovely brother in law David, we named our baby after him. His wife is my little sis Ibuchim but we all called her Buchi. Now these two were typical Lagosians who had their ear to the ground on all the deals both legit and not so.
Between them they handled a lot of the organizing and putting things in place. But even though they steered clear of the not so legit, they knew someone who knew someone if the need ever arose. This time it did, and so they called on the someone who knew someone to handle certain matters.
The family in naija had their own aso ebi and the States side of the family also had theirs. There was still the matter of the in-laws from the Yoruba land...my people or so I thought. Our colour for my birth family was peach and green, my people, the Yoruba's, chose blue and silver and my sisters in naija decided on gold head ties for the Umunna's (relations at large) and Ndi Ibe ( my age group) I will explain later about these .
My mom had to get to naija from the states the same week as me to present a gift to our Umuada (daughters of my linage) to inform them of the upcoming visit for my hand and also plead for their help with cooking for certain members of my clan who would not on occasions such as this, eat food prepared by unworthy hands, no pun intended.
The further along we went with these preparations, the more I came to find out about how this most simple and beautiful tradition we were so keen to fulfil had been adulterated. The whole thing left a somewhat bitter taste in my mouth; but everyone else was amused and in good spirits...could be because they had done battle with these people and not only lost, but took great gladness in what they gained in return, their beautiful wives and once lost dignity.
Everything took its toll, between liaising with naija and the states and desperately striving to double up and fill the two deep freezers in our store located in the back garden with 3 different kinds of soups, stews, bean porridge, Jellof rice, Moi-moi, fried fish, meats and chicken. These all had to be individually packaged to serve the kids and uncle for the next 3 to 4 weeks until our return. Other things like the oyinbo food would come from Mac D's or Bugger King and our local chippie. I was definitely swamped, but am not called supermom for nothing; this gal pulled it all off! Nice and neatly delivered and in target time as well...up me!
The last time I attended a wine carrying was back in 05; my oldest sister's. All I had to do was make myself beautiful and show up for the whole shindig; this time around was a different kettle of fish. There was so much to organize; money had to be sent down to David to pre book for the band, pay the caterers deposit and also accommodate the Photographers and video folks. Thanks to internet banking the transfer of funds was easy and as far as other things such as decorations and theme, my capable sisters took care of that.
Here in London, as we put the finishing touches to everything, the days seemed to fly. The children became clingy and the yearning for Naija soon increased in all of them. Having visited back in 04 for my brother in-laws wedding, my darlings were had so much fun and were spoilt rotten by all the relatives; hence their fascination for everything Naija had set in since then.
They remembered the beaches and Mega Plaza, all the Suya and fresh roasted corn; practically living in Ikoyi club, swimming all day. I did not like the idea of leaving them behind, but when you have to cut your coat according to your material, the story becomes different.
The last days before our departure was spent reassuring them that it would not be for long and that we would soon be back. Timothy and the bigger ones however were not too troubled, a little more freedom for them they thought, I'm sure; but surprises lay ahead for them courtesy of good old uncle Femi. Thankfully they were in school the day we left, so all the goodbyes were said earlier in the morning just before they left.
The bad thing about international traveling since 911 is the ridiculous hours wasted on the ground before take off. In this instance, ours was a good 5 hours, this was so not cool especially with a 2 year old. The nightmare of customs and immigration was nothing compared to the horrible transit bus to the plane itself.
I have flown BA all my adult life, but this particular experience left me so frustrated that I made a mental note...never again!
When you are on board an airplane going to Naija, there's a certain atmosphere in it, even before take off that gives off the feeling of being home. Perhaps it's the sudden familiar babbling in our various languages and that crude manner we tend to treat each other, regardless of class or status, courtesy and good manners immediately eludes us...aah...how so sweet.
After the gruesome experience, we are finally settled down and as we taxied for take off, I glance at my Tobe and his expression could not hide his apparent self pity of being in coach...got to love this!.
Take off was good and as the turbulence settled, dinner was served and the cabin crew did their usual magic of clearing up and passengers soon settled for the long haul to Lagos. David soon fell asleep after a bottle and gratefully I placed him in the bassinet. As for me, I was elated to finally stretch out my legs and put my arms around my body in a self hug....okay coach was awful, but it was not the end of the world.
I felt truly humbled sitting between Tobe and an overweight sweaty German who already showed signs of being one of those people who will talk you to death. The good thing though was that he smelled lovely...Armani pour homme; I know that fragrance any day. He was definitely Gay I thought almost happy; if he was a talker as suspected, we would have some real gal talk, lol.
The great thing about night flights was the sleep effect....before long, half our section in the cabin was in snooze-land and the global map on my screen gave our estimated arrival time to be 4hours more.Tobe also finally fallen asleep but my eyes were wide awake. I began to think about home and curious as to how this whole affair would play out.
We had seen a copy of the LIST....this was a list of items and services primarily expected by the groom to deliver to the bride's family. "you are not going to like this David had warned when he emailed it to us, they had asked for everything...from the most ridiculous to the down right stupid. They all but asked for a pound of flesh. He was right, I was livid. I carefully went through the 65 item list and narrowed it to 40. At that number, the total cost was still staggering. Remembering all this, I promptly got it out of my handbag and stared at it once more.
My mother in law screamed "ye kpa " and broke into a banter of Yoruba proverbs about how these Igbo people have turned something sacred to a treasure hunt. I happened to be on the phone with her when she received it. "Mommy! isn't this a plague consuming everywhere in our beloved country?" I said to her amused.
The more I stared at the list the more I began to miss my late father; had be been alive, half the nonsense on this list would not be on it. Tobe's response was just grin and bear it,"after all, we've already begun this journey". David began to stir a little and I gently rocked him back to sleep in his crib. Now would not be a good time to whip out my double D's to pacify him, my little man was still sucking.
Somewhere between self pity and indignation, I too fell asleep. Though I slept for a good two hours, it felt like 30 minutes. I was awakened by the flood of light that illuminated the entire cabin. The cabin suddenly came to life again and the airline staff scurried along with their duty of serving the last refreshments before arrival. Tobe's vegetarian platter looked better than the Ploughman's sandwiches the rest of us in coach got, my opinion of course.
He looked up at me as I reached to grab David and I winked at him. He seemed a lot less tense now and David began to reach for him...our German friend, who simply smiled and stretched his arms towards me. "I'll hand him over" he said between a mouthful.
Our little man happily reached for his outstretched hands and let out the loudest coo....aahh! German guy says smiling as he gave Tobe his son. I got our things together, prepared some formula for David and went to freshen up while others ate in order to avoid the rush afterwards. In the toilet, I splashed some water on my face and dabbed with paper towels. The face staring back at me looked tired, but still hanging in there. Not bad for a 37 year old huh? I thought to myself. I could still recognize that face.
I hastily applied some moisturizer to my face and arms and hurried back to my seat. The crew were already collecting papers and finished snacks...hence the trolley in the aisle. After several minutes of ducking between seats, I finally made it to mine. Tobe had just about finished with changing our little man and our German friend had left for the toilet. For the first time in the entire trip, my love and I were finally alone....at least for the next 3 minutes or so.
Matter of minutes now babes, I said touching his chin; not too late to change your mind. He smiled in that way only he could; eyes twinkling and face lite up "not for a million baby, it's a done deal already" he replied passing David to me.
The entire cabin was now fully awake once more as passengers prepared before the final call to be seated for landing. I mentally took stock of our belongings and where there where stowed. The smooth sound of the Captains voice soon urged staff to be seated for landing and we gradually descended until the thump familiar sound of the wheels hitting the runway could be heard and gradually the speed decreased until we came to a final stop.
The only way to go through disembarking from the plane was with calm and patience,and we did just that. There was no need to get my panties all twisted up so early in the next 2-3 hours of a hellish morning that was just about to be unleashed upon us....welcome to Naija!
The common rituals of immigrations and customs were observed and after many faked smiles, forced parting so to speak with a few Naira; we finally came through the other side. The family had done well in arranging transportation for us and as we wheeled the luggage and stroller down to the parking lot, my cousin Charles and the driver chatted animatedly with us.
After 30 minutes or so, we finally got everything into both cars and Tobe rode with the driver whilst David and I rode with my cousin. It was good to be in Lagos.
Traffic was not so bad and the familiar sights of flyers, billboards and street hawkers was welcome to my eyes.
Everyone is so excited about your Igabankwu, Charles said to me...in fact all the Oborogu people in Lagos are said to be coming to the village also. "really?" I asked.
This was really nice to hear, but I knew it also meant more expenses. The union of my people voting to come home for my traditional wedding was really a big honor. These days folks were not too keen on spending their money, but to paying their own fares to get to the east? This really was a big deal.
We must make sure there's plenty to eat and drink that day sister, Charles continued taking the words right out of my mouth. Yes indeed, we had to make it worth everyone's time.
The journey to my family home in Ajao estate did not take long. The estate was just minutes from the international airport anyway. The old house was still standing...looking old and tired but still standing. As we pulled into the drive, the gates were quickly closed behind us and soon the few relations who lived in the boys quarters all came out to greet us.
Familiar faces; some now wrinkled with age, yellowing teeth and wide eyed grins. It was wonderful to see them all. There was an uncle deported from the soviet union and one who fought in the Cameroon war; I will tell you more about them as we go along. There was sisi Beke (English teacher) she spoke way too much grammar. She was a middle aged family friend, educated in Cambridge, but taught English in a local secondary school...another strange story for later. Then there was uncle BOY...yes boy; that's just what we call him; his wife and 3 daughters made up the rest of the house hold.
Their hugs were genuine and smelly, but it felt good being in their embrace. They all greeted Tobe in a manner typical Igbo in-laws would, the men that is. "Ogor nno o! welcome". Tobe knew them all, and soon the little girls swarmed around David wanting to carry him and of course he did not protest at all.
When all the luggage had been brought in and put away in the rooms, we sat in the lounge downstairs to contemplate on where we would sleep for the night, when we got our official welcome from NEPA...
TBC
