I always come last!
All my life, I always dey carry last. From teenage years till adulthood. Many times I wonder how I got to be the first born in my family because the trait of the 12th chosen abounds in me.
I remember my first day in NYSC camp, majestically strolling to the tent to pick my kits, only to be told my camp number ends with Zero (0). As such, I have to be in platoon 10. I resisted. I disagreed. I fought. (Well, guess I only battled myself because the stern looking soldiers would have had me for lunch). Platoon 10. Mother of all platoons.”Iyalaya!!!” Confidently, we were coming last in all the competitions. Dancing, breakdance, name it. Before long, ten over ten (10/10) became an anthem in the camp. Naeto C became our brand ambassador. Wait on it! That’s another story for another day.
My location is currently locked in 13.0364° N, 8.3178° E. That’s Daura. The President’s hometown. The spiritual home of the Hausa people. Well, that’s the cool gist I was told. The room I lay my head in Kongolam is five (5) minutes’ walk to Niger Republic. I’ve once had a meal in Nigeria and drank water in Niger Republic. Daura is just seven (7) hours from Abuja. The city hosting the wedding of the year. And again, as usual, I’m carrying last.
I had early wrote about this union. Inked about the engagement of Bonnymaid and Ayomaid. Which you can still read Here. That write-up had won me the African Journalist of the Year Award (Dream on). I had plans. Bought my White Brocade. Tailored my Agbada. Complete Yoruba Demon Apparel. But I won’t be attending. As much as I hate coming up with excuses, this one seems inevitable. I’m so sorry.
Muyiwa will make a great husband. Well, he’s been a good lad. It’s been ten (10) years I came across this gig mind. It’s been a decade of awesomeness. Omobolanle, elegant, poise and easygoing. Wife material, 100 yards. Formidable union where God will be the bedrock. I wish you both nothing but joy, happiness and the blessings of marriage. I would have love to drop some marital advice but what do I know? A single, not eligible man like me. Nonetheless, make Jehovah the third man in the relationship and things will go on well. Right?
Nothing I write will make up for not attending. I was to have a part in the reception program. It’s that bad. But patronizing the couple should give me a soft landing, yeah? I hope so. For those who made it to the wedding, be kind enough to share the fun with me. Let me know what I missed. I’ll be gentle on myself while crying.
Happy Married Life Olumuyiwa and Omobolanle Ogundare.