I hate Wednesdays. I hate Wednesdays so much. I broke up with my husband on a Wednesday, lost my father on a Wednesday, lost my 3rd child on a Wednesday morning – 8:42am they told me. On Wednesdays, I also get annoying calls from mothers and mothers-in-law. This morning, it was Mrs Lawal, the mother to Toke whose wedding I was planning this week. First off, I don’t pick numbers from people I don’t know/don’t have their numbers. I don’t even know why I picked this one.
“Hellow” she said in her thick Yoruba voice.
“Alhaja Islamiya Lawal, iya Toke”
Then she went all on me over the phone, complaining about the prices of things here and there. Started with the wedding gown and then to the bouquet of flowers. Then she went to the choice of reception and the food and everything could remember at that point. Knowing that I can be a rabid dog when angry, I just maintain, collect myself together because if I talk the one wey dey me for mouth at that time, wahala go shoot from where e no dey. As a Waffi chic, I just said “Okay” in a very annoying tune and ended the call.
I got out of bed lazily and went to shower. Urenna had taken the kids to school which was just a 10 minutes’ walk from the house. I wore a blue mini gown with flat sandals and my clutch bag. I was going to fix a lot today and I had to move in something very comfortable. I dropped some money off for Urenna in the living room and went off with the driver. Unlike every other day, I drew up a to-do-list today. First check with the small chops person, then the hall manager and then the bride just mentioned that she didn’t get a bouquet and a garter when we went shopping for her gown.
Luckily for us, there’s no traffic this morning – either everyone got to their offices way too early or they all decided to be late today. I get to Festac to see the small chops guy who works from his house. Name’s Julian, short Yoruba boy. Notice how men are dominating the women professions now, aren’t you? I basically work with men. Women are such troublesome people. But these guys I work with? They’re the best. They deliver whenever and wherever you need them. I walk in to meet Julian doing his push-ups in the living room.
OH MY LORD JESUS, THE GUY IS FUCKING HOT
CAN YOU SEE THE SIX PACKS?
Of course you can’t but damn that stud looks good. Noticing I walked in, he quickly grabbed his towel and covered up. After exchanging greetings, he walked in to change into proper clothes. Damn, that ass. I want to grab them. I couldn’t even concentrate when he came out in a shirt and a pair of black shorts. As my mind was still fixated on the image of the hot almost naked stud I saw earlier. I quickly gave him part of the money for his services and assured him of the rest coming after the job had been done. All I was thinking was Make I do fast comot before tori go change.
Before 1pm, I was done with the items on my to-do-list. I didn’t feel like going home and there was nothing to do so I went over to the bride’s house to discuss a few things with her. On getting there, I noticed the place was quite filled up with ladies, like five of them – all toasting to something. On seeing me, her face lit up with a broad smile.
“Aunt Esse, how far?” she said.
‘’Ladies, meet Aunt Esse, my wonderful wedding planner. She’s the best in the whole of Lagos, honestly”
The ladies smiled and waved their hands. I, on the other hand found myself a seat and smiled in return. A glass of wine was served and I gave her a rundown of how the plans were unveiling. She as usual, commended me and they went back to their gossip. Apparently, one of them was trying to get her man to propose and was completely clueless and the rest were finding solutions to her wahala.
“Does your mother call him? Tell her to call and rant on grandchildren” one of them said.
“No joor. Start writing a wedding list and watch him figure out”
They must have forgotten I was in the room with them because they were so open and talking about secrets. These girls obviously go way back from secondary school or university
“Wetin do your pum pum? Let your pum pum talk for you my sister”
At this, everybody started laughing including me. Done with my glass of wine, it was time to leave – said my goodbyes. Called my driver and we were off to the kids school. They were really surprised their mum came to pick them today. Aww, poor things! The look on Majiri’s face couldn’t even be described. Nene gave me this big hug that I hadn’t gotten in a very long time. See, it’s a beautiful thing to be a mother. And I am a proud single mother at that.
Their father left when he got some appointment in Indonesia. We haven’t heard from him for over five years. His family was never in support so I couldn’t even go back to ask them of his whereabouts. The few attempts I made proved abortive, so, I’ve remained in my lane lest I get what I didn’t bargain for. It’s either he’s dead (ok, maybe a little extreme – at least someone would have turned up to say something or ask for something) or he’s got a new wife or he’s just forgotten about us. I don’t like to remember Brume. I don’t even know whether to stay mad at him or not. After Brume, it has been from sugarboys, to sugardaddies and all that. I don’t think I’ll ever fall for this love thing people talk about. It’s not for everybody.
Anyway, the kids and I go to get ice-cream from school and then I get in the kitchen to prepare lunch. It’s been almost a month since I entered the kitchen to do something. These kids have to enjoy their mum even if it’s for one day.
I am your regular next door neighbour, bringing happiness and joy to you.
Your joy is my joy. Your excitement, my excitement.
I am humbled by every wedding I plan.
And I am more humbled when everything works out well.
Just smile for I have everything worked out.
I am, your wedding planner.
So this is my package for you this week. Wait for what I’ve got next week.
I remain your wedding planner,
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