DEATH IN THE POT (Excerpt)
How is the gold become dim!
How is the most fine gold changed !
Do you promise to take Doris Salama has your newly wedded wife to love and to cherish, to care for and to hold dear in health and in sickness, in lack and in surplus till death shall do you part?”
“I do!” I said confidently, looking through my spectacles into Doris’ most innocent but fearful face
Just like any intending bride, she was scared!
The fear of the unknown had laid a hold on her whole frame and I knew so convincingly that she was not sure how well this marriage would go.
“Pelumi, what if I fail? What if the virtuous woman you are expecting isn’t really me? Like…” she was trembling as I held her hand, dancing into the reception hall
My heart melted!
Doris had always been a strong lady and saying something like this said a lot to me.
I knew that the only demon she feared really was – failure!
“Yet, I do!” I said into her ears, going so close that everyone oohed and screamed, hailing the confident groom that I was!
I smiled quietly to myself- only Doris and I knew what was going on…
“You cannot marry a Nupe lady o Oluwapelumi! Out of the many beautiful ladies in the whole Yorubaland, it’s from the Boko-Haram community that you went to choose from? God forbid o!” My mum had cried the day I told her about Doris
My mum had such a small frail that when I held her, I had always hoped to hold my wife in such a way. That was one of the reasons I was attracted to Doris at first.
She was of a very small stature. She had a very long, black, silky hair inherent from her mummy’s Fulani gene. Her long nose and all of these features and all of these made me fall over heels in love with her the more
But I loved my mum!
I respected her feelings!
She lost her husband, my father to a road accident when he travelled to Kano for a seminar shortly after giving birth to me yet she ensured tooth and nail that she gave us the best of everything in life.
Whenever I held her small hands and I rubbed them so soothingly, she didn’t know what passed through my mind- those veins on those hands always reminded me of her hard labour in a bid to cater for us and nurture us.
Oh how she labored!