Diary of an Oyibo Wife [VI]


“My Naija boy” was all bruised.
… that was his worse experience in life and next to that was the taste of Dr. pepper.

He got my parents’ consent and nothing else mattered.
The wedding would hold during the summer.

Nigerian Traditional wedding in Akure and
Christian wedding in Kansas…

… Phase Six

The days that followed were hectic. Not because of the work involved in planning a wedding but because everyone seemed to believe that they had the right to make choices for me. 

I’m “Oyibo” but I definitely know how I want to look on my traditional wedding day. No one can imagine how many traditional wedding pictures I had on my laptop.

The day finally came… 

I had twenty guest from Kansas who thought they would have the opportunity to meet Lions, Elephants or carry a bucket of water on their heads. The shock of the beautiful cities of Lagos and Akure was a pleasant one. The Yoruba culture of the groom and his friends prostrating in front of my parents was the most fascinating of the whole event. We danced the night away as the melody from the talking drums filled the atmosphere.

Five days later, I was in Kansas putting together my “something old, Something new, Something Borrowed, something blue” and a six pence for my shoe”

I walked down the aisle to a song that spoke my mind. The Prayer by Celine Dion and Andrea Bocelli … walking down the aisle wasn’t as joyful as I thought it would be. It suddenly dawned on me that I was going away from my family forever.

I suddenly had so many fears as I saw classmates and family that I hadn’t seen in years. It got so emotional with a little more than a few tears.

The ceremony lasted for about forty-five minutes (45 mins) and this was the high point for my Nigerian family. We walked out of church with an out pouring of rice which stood for prosperity, fertility and good fortune.

The reception was great!!!

Dad picked and surprised me with “I loved her first by Heartland for our Father/ Daughter dance and there was not a dry eye at our reception. I saw my dad cry as he held me close (we actually stopped dancing) he looked me in the eye and told me to call him if I ever wanted to return to Kansas.

My eyes were wet even as I got on-board the plane to Hong Kong for the honeymoon … reality struck.

Honey moon was OK. It was fun actually, except for sex that wasn’t all I excepted it to be. It wasn’t like the movies. Tayo and I fumbled with each other’s bodies and finally “cracked the shell”. The subsequent times weren’t as bad… I’m looking forward to the session that comes with fireworks.

Mrs Omotosho arrived Lagos and life began. I enjoyed furnishing our home with my favorite things. Tayo called our home “Little Kansas” and he absolutely loved it. Anytime we got compliments on how beautiful our home looked, he would say, “Na Oyibo touch”. The first year was filled with A LOT of cultural miscommunications.

Normally we use Persil to wash clothes and on one of those days, we ran out of detergent, Tayo asked that I buy Omo and I did. I bought the detergent called Omo and I learned afterwards that Omo means detergent… “Aunty”– was any older female relation. “Soup “– any sause eaten with garri, fufu, semovita or amala, stew- any sauce eaten with rice, yam, plantain, spaghetti or bread.

We argued and argued but I still loved my naija boy. Home front was all I prayed for it to be but work was hectic. Patients always insisted on seeing the “ Oyibo doctor” and soon enough, I was weary from having to see patients non-stop. I fell sick and assumed that work had beaten me hard but when the sickness persisted, I ran a pregnancy test and it was positive.

Tayo insisted that we inform our parents in order for them to plan to come take care of our baby. It happened that we didn’t have one but two!!! We had twins. After the kids arrived, the issues that pertain to interracial marriages became obvious.

Tayo and I couldn’t agree on their names; I wanted Brandon and Brian but he wanted Daniel and David. I thought it was unfair for him to insist because they were already named Taiwo and Kehinde just because they are twins. Why shouldn’t I have the right to name my children. This was huge for me… I cried for days.

On the day of the naming, our pastor called them Kehinde Brandon Omotosho and Taiwo Brian Omotosho. Tayo had compromised and I was super excited!!! I learned to make a lot of compromises like watching my mother-in-law use a hot towel on their navels ( as a doctor, I know this isn’t right) but I had asked around and everyone said it was normal.

She held them by their wrist and ankles in very awkward positions and I heard my babies cry everyday as they had a bath.

As for me, I had to take very hot and spicy foods “to ensure that my breast milk flowed well”

I was surrounded by everything that was foreign to me, I started feeling as though my boys weren’t mine. My mother in-law always had them… she seemed to have more rights to them than I did.

I started experiencing a high level of anxiety with an inability to eat. I found myself being detached from everyone. Tayo got so worried and insisted that I needed to be with my family…

I booked our flights and I was in Kansas with Brian and Brandon.

 I will never forget the relief I felt once we walked into my parents’ home. I didn’t have to deal with massages, powder and being smothered…


… to be continued


*…Blog picture [joy] gotten from http://mymarriageblog.weebly.com/gallery  through google search.

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