My sister's Wedding

Church Wedding

"If you would repeat after me my dear," Father Collins said to my sister on the altar of St Leo's Catholic Church, "I...

"I, Nmasinachi Okpara, take you, Kelechi Okoye, to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

And Fr. Collins repeated the same words for Kelechi.

I could see Kelechi grinning from ear to ear at my sister. The happiest people I knew on Earth were getting married. I could imagine how their home would be. Wonderful!

"I now pronounce you, husband and wife," Fr. Collins said, "you may kiss the bride."

And that was it, my second sister was officially married. I watched her kiss her husband and my heart was filled with joy. A tear dropped from my eye and I quickly wiped it with my handkerchief. Love is a beautiful thing indeed. I let my mind travel to the events of the past week, following Nma's traditional marriage. How I met the good looking man that kept staring at me from the other side of the church. He was one of the groomsmen. He wore a black tuxedo with a white shirt inside. The color of the tie was gold. Gold was one of the colors of the day. I was also one of the bridesmaids. Yes, I am. I'm not letting any negativity stop me from being a bridesmaid, even if I was the oldest sister. Zikora winked at me and I remembered our road trip.

The road trip turned out to be marvelous. I was so glad I had accepted his offer. Thank God he wasn't a kidnapper or serial killer. He had arrived at my house earlier than 5:30am that Sunday, not before calling to make sure I was still up for it.

"Hi, this is Zikora. Just checking to know if you're still up for our road trip." He had called at 4:30am.

I rubbed my eyes and yawned, "yes I am. Thanks for waking me."

He hung up and arrived at the house 45 minutes later in a burgundy Toyota Venza. I was impressed. Hol'up, I was impressed with his punctuality. Nmesoma, however, was impressed with his ride. My mother on the other hand was speechless. I loved the look on her face when I informed her and my father that I was leaving for Lagos with a friend of mine. My father bade me journey mercies.

"Anyi ga'afu na Lagos Ada m", my father said.

My mother looked like she had swallowed her tongue. I smirked at that and left their room. Nmesoma followed me outside, to lock the gate. I left Arondizuogu with a happy spirit. Zikora's car smelled like roses and he had enough treats for the trip, just the way I liked it. Awesome!

We drove in silence for about an hour, till at least we crossed Imo. I slept till about 7am. Then the talks started. Zikora is a wonderful talker. He engaged me in talks about music, movies and politics. I hate politics but I found what he said intriguing. Then we talked about what we did for a living.

"I am the team lead at one of the Access branches," I said.

"That's really good", he said, "I'm a realtor and I also have my own business. I sell wristwatches, you know, just to have an extra source of income."

"That's nice. Wouldn't you like to open an account with my bank?" I widened my eyes as I asked this.

He laughed, "Adanna, Access bank, really? I've heard so much about them-"

"What did you hear?" I cut him off. "All banks have their modus operandi. Please for my sake, just open an account with us." I gave him a puppy face.

He smiled and looked at me briefly before looking back at the road, "I'll think about it."

"How old are you?" I couldn't resist asking.

"29," he said, not taking his eyes off the road. He didn't ask how old I was, I didn't bother telling him.