How Could I Be The Best Man?
The very year I turned twenty, my anxiety to go to my hometown became high. Gracefully, one of my uncles came to visit, he intended to travel to the village that Christmas. When I heard about his decision, I convinced him to speak to my father so I could follow him, but my father could not agree. His excuse was that my village people were not brotherly in their conduct. He said:
A man died of hunger in our village, but during the funeral, a lot of food was served.
As he mentioned this, cold gripped me. I could not believe that there would be people so heartless.
At that moment, I decided that it was not necessary to travel to a land where your welfare is not important.
I had carried this notion in my mind till I turned thirty. I was not proud of my hometown and hardly spoke of it with my comity of friends.
One of my friends named Chisom was going to get married. The wedding was to be held far away in the east. We were from the same state. As his best man, I was on the ground from the first day of the rites ceremonies.
The bride's family were happy to see us, all young and happy people. During the payment of the dowry, I spotted my uncle.
What could he be doing here?
I asked myself, then walked up to greet him.
Good evening Uncle Anechebe.
He looked at me, trying to figure out who I was. It's been a whole ten years since I last saw him.
Nna, what are you doing here?
He queried with his eyeballs flickering so wide.
I accompany my friend who is getting married.
I said to him,
Chineke me e. The bride is your cousin.
I was taken aback. My cousin? I couldn't be here as the best man. That day, Uncle Anechebe introduced me to everyone as the first son of my father, the one who had refused to bring his family home. It was a mixed feeling for me. I never knew I was in my hometown and that my friend was marrying my cousin.
The wedding ceremonies went well but I had to turn down the office of the best man for another of our friends.
When I returned to the city, I reported to my father my experience at the wedding. Everyone laughed at him. Then, we began a very serious discussion about all of us traveling to the village.
My siblings were very glad when my father finally agreed that we all should prepare to go home next Christmas.
We started planning. Everyone wants to look good. So, we engage in a savings scheme that would enable us to cater for some of the things that will be needed and not make our two weeks stay in the village boring. All these we did without our parents knowing.
The journey to the village was quite fun. For my siblings, it was their first time traveling for about seven hours in one bus.
When we reached home, everywhere seemed strange with strange faces too. Everyday during our stay, my father took us round the village introducing us to all our relatives. We mingled with as many as we could. To keep in touch with most of them who were in our age bracket, I volunteered to open a social media group and add all of them and more of our people joined. Since then, we connect and share life experiences.
It is normal or common that at some point in our life we have a bad concept of some place, some person, and that this concept changes over time. Not only do we change, but also our way of seeing the world and relating to others changes. Greetings
I am grateful that I connect to my root on time. The level at which people disconnect with family in our time is very worrisome. This amount from the fear of repeated patterns of misfortune.
But like you said, when the time comes, one will find his next agenda and move on.
I'm glad he eventually changed his stance. As much as there's a lot changing in the world, family has always been a strong point of connection for many African communities.
The yearly Christmas visits, festivals and the likes all to bring everyone together.
I'm glad too. It was a tug of war convincing him to have a change of mind.
There are invisible links between relatives. A bond that is strengthened by circumstance and their concern for each other. This is a very interesting story. It is born out of a family mystery and resolved satisfactorily.
Especially in African parlance where family is your first asset which must be kept with all jealousy.
Yay! 🤗
Your content has been boosted with Ecency Points, by @mrenglish.
Use Ecency daily to boost your growth on platform!
Support Ecency
Vote for new Proposal
Delegate HP and earn more
Thank you, #ecency.
It is good to return to the roots to remember where the first cry or laugh we had was, despite everything it is the land where you are born and the family you have. Sounds like a great meeting of Christmas.
Thanks for sharing.
Good day.
This was an amazing twist. Being the best man at your cousin's wedding without even knowing. Well, it was inevitable as fate brought you back to your roots.
But honestly, some villages are not worth visiting because of the way the inhabitants are.
This was a lovely read.
Seriously. There are children who do not know their roots because of what their parents went through in the hands of family and communal dwellers.
Just like myself. I was always stopped from going to my village even when the village isn't that far. Till date, I feel reluctant to go there.
What I find in mine is boredom. I haven't been there for ages, I think the last time I went there was in 2015. That's about right years ago?
Oh I see.
No matter how bad your home and family is, you can not fix things right by running away forever. Trying to run away is like one trying to run away from it's shadow. I glad he finally decided to face his responsibility.
It must have been really embarrassing for him to know he was at his own cousins wedding and he wasn't aware of it. This is why it is really important to know your family members not just your father's children, he could literally have married his own family member by accident