ASO EBI

 

Fisayo Talabi.

We were a clique of four; Me, Ijeoma, Tolani and Doris, since our days of glory at the Obafemi Awolowo University. We were the kind of girls that every guy on campus wanted to try his luck on. Not that I mean to brag or rub it in your faces, but we are four hot looking feminine species, well created by the graceful and benevolent hands of the Almighty.

All four of us graduated and served in Lagos, thanks to the strings Doris’ dad pulled on our behalf. Nevertheless, take it or leave it, life after NYSC opens your eyes to reality, and puts you on your toes because you realise all of a sudden that it has come to a state of each man for himself, God for us all. Doris’ dad could not get us all jobs of course. Barely two months after our passing out parade, had Doris travelled to the United Kingdom for her Master’s degree. It came to me especially, as a huge shock, when she announced that she was pregnant and getting married after her master’s programme. She had met a British citizen there, who she claimed was so much in love with her and wanted to marry her. Of course we gossiped about it. Ijeoma said there was more to it and that Doris was using the guy to get settled in the UK. Yes, we all knew our friend had the habit of using guys and dumping them after leeching on them for a while, and even if these guys knew that she was just a greedy glutton devoid of any true feelings of love towards them, they still longed to be with her. Tolani laughed and said Doris was probably not pregnant, and was just scheming things to work for her good. I really did not have anything to say. Of my friends, I am nick named the mother Theresa. I honestly believe in focusing on a person’s good attributes rather than enhancing their vices. They jeered at me as usual when I said we should be happy for her and support her all the way. You know, sometimes, I still find girl to girl relationships very funny and amusing. The way we girls backbite and gossip about our friends, and even hate, envy, or quarrel over little things is so surprising, because guys could absolutely not give a hoot about the things we take serious. Would you believe that Doris came back to Nigeria with her Boo and these girls; Ijeoma and Tolani, were the first to go visit her. They planned the aso-ebi for the wedding, picked the colours with Doris, and got into a fight over who would be her Chief Bridesmaid! Doris’ wedding was a big success. We did not mind that the aso-ebi cost twenty five thousand naira. We were all out to support our bestie. Apparently, her husband was one top shot Nigerian government pikin based in the UK. They always say the bad girls are the luckiest because they have the most fun and get the best guys. *Shake my head*. Everybody had fun, no doubt. It was so classy with government officials, oil magnates, business moguls, and multinational executives in attendance. If there was anything I learnt from Doris’ wedding, it was that Money is the spice of love.

I had been seeing this guy I met at Silverbird for nine months now, and he seemed a very nice guy. He worked as a contract staff in Chevron, and whenever he was off shore for two weeks, he made me feel his presence in every way. He lavished gifts on me, and my Gtbank account. I felt like the whole shine was on me because my friends never stopped hailing me. They were so ready to drop their busy schedules, no matter how demanding, to hang out with me when Hassan was around. Of course those eye service friends of mine were also recipients of my Boo’s philanthropies. Like I said earlier, it had been nine months, and Hassan had still not said anything about taking me down the aisle. He was a muslim, but had the heart of a born again Christian. The same pastor that told me not be unequally yoked with unbelievers was still the one who said God loves a cheerful giver, so I figured I was doing right either way. This life is not hard.

This Sunday evening, I had just gotten off the phone with Hassan when Tolani called me and with her gist, I knew the shine was off me. “Babes, Deji proposed to me tonight!”

Here we are, three months after, in Tolani’s living room, deciding what colour her aso-ebi should be, and Hassan has still not said a word. He is still taking me to see movies at Genesis Deluxe, and even when I thought he was going to propose to me on our one-year anniversary, the guy just took me to Silverbird to watch The Lucky One because “this is where we first met, babe”. Honestly it felt as though he was telling me to my face that Tolani was the lucky one.  Even Doris was there with us, on Skype though. She had a baby now, and was not working. Her husband said he did not want her to stress herself in anyway. All she did was shop and shop and shop! She had ordered Tolani’s wedding dress and was showing it to us. Tolani had met Deji just five months ago, and now they were getting married. He was based in Canada, and that meant Tolani was one more bride leaving the shores of Nigeria.

The aso-ebi we decided on was thirty thousand naira. (Tolani just wanted to prove she could do better than Doris). I work as an admin staff in a secondary school in Lekki phase 1. My job is not stressful, but my pay is not exactly what I envisaged I would be earning. Well, she was my best friend. Even if paying thirty thousand for her aso-ebi would leave me with twenty five thousand naira for that month, not to mention that I would be making souvenirs for her wedding, it was alright by me. Ijeoma and I made sure our friend had a nice and awesome party. That was the least we could do as friends.

It was another Sunday morning in November, and I was picking out which native to wear to church. It was then it dawned on me that the bulk of my traditional attires were aso-ebi. I looked at the other side of my closet and there hung so many chief brides maids and bridal train dresses. I have graced so many weddings, giving it all my power and might, and then it suddenly made sense to me that my mother was ridiculing me, and not complimenting me, when she called me “wedding planner.” In fact, I was the one who hooked Ijeoma up with Hassan’s cousin, Qudus, and as weird as it seemed; igbo catholic girl, and Yoruba muslim boy, my friend was getting having her introduction in December!

It is November and I remember one of my resolutions for the year was to get married. Jibola my younger brother, was discussing with my mom the other day about his introduction, and my mom told him to tell me because I am the perfect wedding planner. If this is a curse I begin to bind it right now. Maybe Pastor was right when he said Hassan was not the man for me. I have decided to break it off with him after he pays the sixty thousand naira and Louis Vuitton tote bag that he promised me for Christmas.

Today, Pastor Wale said we should decree a thing and it shall be established. He said we should launch out in faith and take big and giant strides. I don’t really have a word…I know people in church say it a lot that God gave them a word. I have picked my word too. The scripture of where Jesus turned water to wine. By faith I have chosen my aso-ebi, and I don’t care what anyone says. It’s burnt orange Ankara. I believe by faith that my Ankara shall turn into an Elie Saab or Vera Wang wedding dress in this coming year. The years that the canker worms like Hassan have eaten, shall be restored to me!