Till Death

The Wedding

A very sunny day, the sun burned against my skin though it was hidden under an ash three-piece suit and blue shaped shirt. I walked out of my car towards the church, I adjusted the knot of my bright-red tie over and over again. A few yards more and I quickened my steps, hurrying into the shade formed by the church's steeple.

In my mind's eye, I still saw the signboard "St. Steven's Anglican Church, Surulere ..." the list of weekly programmes was so blurred in my mind. A modern-style church building I could see through the windows no stained glass just tinted, possibly a hundred or so silhouettes were imprinted on my radiance sited on wooden pews made of very high quality wood, hard as diamond, polished golden brown. I spotted elaborate "geles" and a few young ladies dressed in rich maroon Ankara spotted with pretty patterns of yellow and lilac flowers the couples 'aso-ebi'.

As I mused, three middle aged women walked passed me and found their way through a wooden side door which had been closed hitherto. It then dawned on me that I was actually entering through the left wing of the church; there must have been a much wider door at the front. My eyes caught a glimpse of a grey Volkswagen passat saloon car parked inside the premises; its back-side nearly touched the three-foot white wall crowned with shiny black bars. My eyes kept following the women until they disappeared into the church. An elderly male when beckoned on me to come through. He probably realized how hidden the side door would seem to strangers. I stepped in a few seconds later and felt the sudden change in temperature – it must have been twenty-five degrees inside the church.

"... will you take Chukwuemeka Eluigwe to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold ..."

The church vicar was addressing the bride. Oh how late I was; it was easy to blame Lagos traffic! I turn my head to my left and caught a stared at Modupe repeating her vows clad in pure white wedding gown, immaculate! She was indeed immaculate, one of the purest of women the altar was probably seventy feet away but the still looked beautiful. A lone of ushers guided me through an aisle at the back of the church, pat the main entrance to the right wing. I then took a left and walk towards the altar until I got to the third row. I stopped into a pew and felt its hard surface against my behind – 'ouch!" couldn't they have had softer chairs?

I looked around.... Then must have been possibly a hundred and fifty attendees scattered throughout the cathedral of sorts. The distance of the ceiling made me think the building could have taken three storeys, I looked being and realized there was actually a gallery ten feet from the floor held in place by massive pillars. The random manner people sat made think the ushers were not doing a good job of marking the people's sit in an orderly manner like a certain bishop used to say I looked back at the couple – smiles upon smiles littered their faces. Modupe's smile was so endearing, so natural, so innocent.

The couple knelt for prayers and the organ began to play. I looked to my right towards the source of the solemn sound and just caught the choir rising in union they sang following the organist;

O perfect love, all human thought transcending

Lowly we kneel in prayer before thy throne

That theirs may be the love which knows no ending

Who thou of evermore lost join in one

O perfect life, be thou their full assurance

of tender charity and steadfast faith

of patient hope, and quiet brave endurance

with childlike trust that fears nor pain nor death

grant them the joy which brightens earthly sorrow