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Martinson Oluwaseun

Martinson Oluwaseun

THE ELUSIVE MARRIAGE

4 min readOct 31, 2021

I remembered the day my first fiancé was to come with his family to meet mine for formal introductions. I remembered it like yesterday, I had just turned 25. I remembered the mint green lace my step-mother made me wear. I remembered how excited she had been. I remembered the proud look on my father’s face. I remembered how we’d waited patiently for Adetunji and his family until expectation became anxiety, anxiety became hope and hope became despair. I remembered the countless, merciful but senseless explanations my step-mother’s friends gave to console me. I remembered the words of encouragement, and the pity loaded smiles that assailed me in the consequent weeks. I remembered the feelings. Of rejection, of betrayal, of loneliness, of pain, of hurt, of anger, of wanting to disappear. I remembered the tears, how freely they’d flowed. I never thought this day would come.

As I made for the church entrance, my right hand interlocked in my father’s left, the sun shone through my veil, feeling warm and soft on my skin. The decoration was profuse, the atmosphere gay. People moved about doing things, or pretending to do them. Everyone acted important. A few serious faces here and there, making sure things went according to plan. The whole world, it seemed, was moving for me. Me. As my father and I, stepped slowly to the bashful tune of ‘Here Comes the Bride’, wafting beautifully through the church organ, I looked quickly past the sea of Wine and Champagne Gold Headgears to find the object of my affection. Or perhaps to make sure he was really there. Part of me still felt dreamy and I pinched myself a few times during that walk through the isle. It took forever. I could only see his back, but could feel his heartbeat as I moved ever closer to him. I still felt dreamy.

I remembered the pains of trying one relationship after another in the years after Tunji’s disappearance. By the time I turned thirty, I was done. Five more years of pain was enough. I remembered the feelings. Of rejection, of loneliness, of ugliness, of not being enough. I remembered the thoughts of being cursed, forever banished to live and die in solitude. And just when I gave up, closing my heart to men, Akintade showed up. Oh, how he tried. To win my heart, to tear down the impregnable fortress I had built around my heart, to prove that he was different, that he would not hurt me as the others had done. But he came late. And why did he wait so long to find me?

Standing before this man as he read his vows to me, looking into his eyes as he looked into mine, tears streamed down my cheeks as I smiled at him. He was smiling too. I knew he’d open my veil and wipe those tears if he could. At thirty two, I still couldn’t believe I was marrying him. This man who taught me to love and trust again. Who helped me heal when the wounds had become sores. Who brought me hope when hope itself, had deserted me. Who taught me more and more about the amazing ways of the Lord.

I remembered the ill treatment and insults I threw at him to throw him off course. I remembered his relentlessness. I remembered how my heart had begun to lean towards him, how his tender heart and kindness chipped off my Alcatraz, bit by bit. I remembered the anger rising in me when I realized that I was falling for this mystery man. I remembered how he’d walked several kilometres in pelting rain at night, after standing twelve hours in surgery, just to wish me Happy Birthday in person.

Tearfully, he said ‘I do’. And while everyone waited for me to read my vows, I just stood there with him, and we both wept like children. When I began to speak, I did not read what was typed in the programme. No, that was nowhere near what I felt or what I wanted to say to him. So I ignored it and poured out my heart instead.

You found me at my lowest,

Still you gave me your best.

When I pushed you farther,

Still you came nearer.

When I gave up on love,

You taught me to love again.

When I strayed from God,

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You helped me find my faith.

Looking into your eyes, Akintade,

I forget the pains of yesteryears.

You’re my wedding gift from God,

The answer to my sincerest prayers

I couldn’t possibly love you more,

My friend, brother, teacher and now, husband.

And so I pray for strength to stand by you,

Side by side through all God and life may throw at us.

To carry your children and grow old with you.

To make you smile when you frown.

To be your worst critic and number one fan.

To hug or kick you as necessary.

To be your wife till death do us part.

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