Don’t Ask Me When I Am Getting Married. Or Else…
The pressure has begun; in earnest. ‘Ramat, when is your wedding? When will you settle down? When are we coming to eat your own cake?’ These are the questions I keep getting from family, ‘friends’ and acquaintances. In their view, I am no longer a young ‘girl’ and this means that I should be married now, settled into my role as wife and eventually, mother. I shouldn’t be traipsing about in the name of ‘chasing career’. In fact, I was told that I shouldn’t chase career at the expense of marriage and motherhood. All of this however, is not surprising. If I am being truthful to myself, I would admit that it is kind of expected. I have written about this one too many times to not expect that I would be at the receiving end as I get older. But expecting it doesn’t make it any less maddening. It always amazes me how my decision to get married (or not) affects people so much so that they think I need an intervention. Usually, when asked these questions, I have three answers depending on who you are. 1. To family, I say I do not want to rush into an institution like marriage until I am willing to go all the way and until I have found someone whose entire being and essence, including all the horrible (HORRIBLE) parts, are things I can handle for the rest of my life. 2. I tell ‘friends’ that I may not get married and get a kick out of watching their expressions as they digest what I said; and 3. If an acquaintance has the effrontery to ask when I am getting married, I look at them pointedly and ask how it affects their lives. Like seriously, how does it?! While my true answer is a combination of all these, it isn’t the whole story. I grew up witnessing only unhappy marriages. Some of them bore their cross, others left. In all these, the children suffered the consequences of their parents’ poor marriages. Even the homes I thought were happy had their problems and were sometimes just a façade. So, I really don’t want to be married at all if it means not ensuring my children grow up in a safe, loving and majorly happy environment. I also don’t consider marriage the achievement-for-women most people think it is. In my view, it isn’t an achievement, a goal or something to aspire to. I view it as a part of my life and not the whole. But more than anything, I see the level of unhappiness in marriages and I want to hold off as long as I can; that is if I do. Have you also noticed that the people who are always clamouring for your wedding are usually the ones with the saddest marriages? Misery they say… Anyway, my family always tells me that just because something didn’t work for others doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work for me. I agree with that completely. I may just be the one who gets a happy marriage (*scoffs). What are the odds of that happening? I believe that marriage is full time work and until I am sure I am ready to make the sacrifices necessary to make that work, work…I am not going to fret or oblige anyone by jumping the broom. When I say this, I am always told that time is not on my side: that when I am ready, I may not get the type of man I want, and age doesn’t flatter a woman. I must admit that in some regard, they are right. As I have grown older, the pool of men who used to ‘toast’ me have greatly reduced. It reduces further when the ones left hear I am a feminist. It reduces even further when they hear I am keeping my name (*laughing my head off) but in all, they are proving me, not my family or friends, right. I will age and lose my beauty. Should my ‘husband’ who fell in love with my youth be expected to stay when that happens? What prevents him from chasing a younger girl when I am no longer fresh and peng? I won’t stop being a feminist – contrary to what most peoplethink would happen – so it is better the guy runs away before he even gets started. And I will always be Ramatu Ada Ochekliye. If he doesn’t get it, why do I need to be married to him anyway? So, I have come to the conclusion that people will always bug me about getting married until I do. Even at that, they won’t stop. The next thing will be when I give birth to my first child…and the next…and the next. That is their prerogative; as inappropriate as it is. However, as I am living my life for me and would be held accountable for all my decisions, I would do what I want with it! Thank you very much! Now…to the very stubborn people who cannot take a cue even if it slaps them in face with its tentacles, let me lay it out plainly to you. If you do not have a happy marriage, don’t ever ask me when I am going to get married. If per chance you do, I promised I will use the knowledge of your unhappy marriage to clap back at you. It would go something like this; ‘Awww…I am sure you are SO happy in your marriage that is why your husband is sleeping with undergrads at the university he works’ or ‘I am inspired by your marriage. Knowing how bored your wife is with you makes me want to marry as quickly as possible’. So the caveat here is, if want to ask about how soon I am getting married, make sure your relationship can pass through my fire. Or better still, mind your business! Thank you! PS: Dear family, I was not talking to you oh! You can ask me anytime you
To Hell With Saying ‘I Do’
Loulette Bride. Image: April + Galina Potography As soon as Biola clocked thirty, the pressure on her to get married reached fever pitch. She was an extremely hardworking TV personality with the leading entertainment channel in Nigeria. She had over N50 million in her account and ten plots of land. She drove her own Sedan and rented her own house in an upscale part of Abuja. In her view, she had everything and that was why she was constantly tired of the prodding urging her to ‘settle down’, ‘start a family’, and to ‘become responsible’. She couldn’t go anywhere without people reminding her that she was ‘advancing in age’ and should be worried about ‘what people will say.’ Though she had lived almost all her life in Ibadan, she didn’t hesitate to move to Abuja when work opportunity came. In her view, she had freedom; what blissful freedom. Or so she thought. ••• Her aunt – Aunty Folake – called her once a week to remind her that she needed to get married. She laughed and usually responded by telling her that she would. ‘Biola mi, you are thirty. Time will not wait for you oh! Your mother might not be worried but the rest of the family is. Ha ahn! When will you have children? Do you want to be old before you give birth? As a nurse who has worked for 25 years, I can categorically tell you that pregnancies of women advanced in age are usually trouble pregnancies and the risk factors for the child are high oh! Is that what you want? Ehn?!’ To which Biola would always respond, ‘Aunty mi, I will get married soon. Don’t worry.’ After which she would look for the slightest excuse to end the call. She was surprised at her Aunty Folake’s insistence that she marry. Her aunt had been married twice before deciding to settle down with her current husband. She still got angry when she talked about her ex-husbands, especially husband number one. He had deceived her into thinking he was comfortable enough to take care of her. It wasn’t until they were married that she realized he was poor. He had a mat, two plates and one spoon. He spent all his money trying to live a lie and something as basic as feeding had been a struggle for them. When he had any money, it quickly disappeared in the gambling pits in town. She had hated him because she suffered real poverty with him. It wasn’t until she got a job that things got better; better being that she filed for divorce and left him. Her second husband had been the worst. She had come home one day to see him sexually abusing her adolescent daughter. She nearly killed him with a knife. The only reason she didn’t was that the neighbors stepped in and stopped the fight. He spent some hours in the police cell but was released because he was an aspiring politician who had a lot of money to bribe the police officials. Her current husband was nothing more than a Muppet in the hands of Biola’s aunt. He had no say in the house and visibly resented his powerlessness but Aunty Folake would have it no other way. ••• Evelyn Oshoeke, her hair and makeup stylist was another person putting pressure on her. ‘Biola, there is this man that wants to meet you. Girrrl, he is loaded! He is a commissioner and men! He has money!’ she blurted as soon as Biola came in for a touch-up. ‘Evelyn, drop it all ready. Like I’ve said over and over again, I will not get married.’ Biola said defiantly. ‘You are a beautiful woman. You don’t even need this make up. You are successful and loaded. Why then won’t you want to be complete? Girl, you know I will keep asking until you tell me the reason.’ she said as she tried to contour Biola’s cheek. Biola shifted angrily and huffed! ‘You want to know why I don’t want to get married?! Simple! I will not have any man try to limit me to kitchen and bedroom duty when I have so much to do in this life. I intend to leave my name in the sands of time and trust me; I will not put my goals on hold to please any man!’ Evelyn looked at her and frowned. ‘First, you just messed up my work and I’m none too pleased. So keep your face in one place so I can do my job.’ Biola eyed her a bit but obeyed. Evelyn started working again. ‘Second, a man doesn’t have to limit you. He can be your greatest supporter. Take my husband for example; he is helping me achieve my dreams and so much more. When I was just plaiting my friends’ hair, he pushed me to go to take a course in beauty regimen and when I was done, opened this big shop for me. He is my biggest support and you could get someone like that too’. She continued talking but Biola wasn’t listening. She remembered when Evelyn had come to the shop with a swollen red eye which she had tried to hide with her makeup. Upon further investigation, Biola found out that Evelyn’s husband, “her biggest support”, beat her up for the slightest infraction and that she had been beaten badly on so many occasion that she lost three babies as a result. A day after she returned home from giving birth to her first child, her husband had slapped her for being too slow in bringing his food. And here she was, gushing about her husband and using him as an example for why Biola should get married. Biola let her talk and when she was done, she left more resolute not to marry. ••• Mrs. Kayla Griffin was an affluent branch manager of a telecommunication company in Abuja. She was a beautiful, well educated, cosmopolitan woman. Her company was one of the sponsors of Biola’s
