THS (The Heel Story): My marriage proposal (part 1)

At the beginning 2015, I made a list of things I would love to achieve before the year runs out and the first thing was finding me a rich and handsome man for marriage.

It is that bad, I have to settle down, I am sick and tired of being the bridesmaid and never the bride and I am sick of sewing ase-obi and posting selfies on Instagram. I am sick of the social media crowd, the Facebook friends and twitter followers, I just need the main thing. Is a knight in shining armor too much to ask for?

I am 28 years old, always the girlfriend and never the bride, I just have to get married before people starting thinking I have a spiritual husband, no offense to those with one but it's just not my thing. Man hunting no easy at all and the competition is stiff like a whole season of "The Ultimate Search" only difference is no one ends up finding anything. As a sharp girl, I have come to realise that men these days no longer fall for the Brazilian hair and long hair extensions, so I went natural. I have to be admired by force, from afro puffs, to twists and updos. I rocked every style in the book except maybe thread which doesn’t sell market well. As the competition intensified, I tightened my belt. Bored one weekend and I decided to travel from my Masaka home to my friends house in the popular "Gwarimpa". Dem get money sha and I have been crushing on her elder brother since like forever-ever. Unfortunately the dude got married to a fake accent not knowing how to sound like an American girl with a fetish for outrageous Brazilian hair, what a waste.

Back to matter abeg, that Saturday I attend the DMP (Designer Market Place) at City Park. Having found myself in a financial pickle, my friend was kind enough to give me 8000 naira which by the way was more than I had in my savings. You see the thing is I am not big on social gatherings and I realised that every girl present at the function was stylishly dressed, they all acted alike, talked alike, dressed alike and had an odd sense of humor, virtually laughing at everything even that which I didn't find amusing. Please Understand that Abuja girls are not my problem, I am sure they were men hunting just like myself and the way complimentary cards seemed to be disseminated was quite alarming. So I began scouting the whole place just like a kid would in a candy store, and boy I found myself a good man. He looked like Idris Elba, his smile was enchanting, I could literally count his packs from the shirt he wore. Chaiee fine boy killing me. I took matters into my hands, this boy can’t pass me by oh!, so I purposely spilled my chapman on his shoes, a technique I took from sex in the city, it works like touch and follow.

I apologized and he wasn’t pissed at me, I took it a step further by trying to clean his shoes and he stopped me mid-way to his foot. He had a firm grip, I couldn't help but wonder how I would love those hands touching me forever. My name is Brad and what’s your name?he asked, I am Angelina (what! did I just forget my own name). Sorry I’m Ada, we both laughed. Brad was the sweetest thing ever and we spoke like we had known ourselves for a long time. I was a little intimidated by his presence so I had to add a little accent like my Abuja ladies would.

We had a long conversation and time literally stopped when we spoke. Brad was 32 years old, strike one, handsome strike two and lives in the UK, God is wonderful. I introduced him to my friends, we exchanged numbers and then it was time to get back home. That night I couldn’t stop thinking about him and he called almost immediately, I knew my friend was a bit jealous of the call because I didn’t give her the attention she wanted. I could swear that night my dreams were about brad, our home and children. I was that desperate to settle down, you can’t blame me.

After work The next day, I met up with Brad for dinner at the pink plates restaurant Asokoro and it was as I eagerly anticipated, a romantic night!. Brad was acting all serious and he had on a cologne that smelt like Bvlgari, Oh well, how would I know? I was still comfortably in the class of Smart Collection perfumes. He told me how much he loves me and how he would love to spend the rest of his life with moi, yes, as in moi!!. That was fast I said to myself. He got down on his knees brought out a ring and asked the question all single ladies dream off.

Ada will you marry me? What, a proposal, was I featuring in a Nollywood video without knowing? I couldn’t find the words to explain how I felt, emotions building up, my heart beating fast, as I was about to say yes I will, I had a big slap on my back. I turned to know which devil was standing between me and MRS. Lo and behold it was my elder brother with his stupid black boxers that he doesn’t wash from week to week and the stupid blue singlet he has had like forever. So this thing na dream, I muttered. Ada which kind sleep you dey sleep this hot afternoon wey u no dey hear the call wey mama dey call you? Abeg Come sidon for shop mama wan go Nyanya market. So I have been dreaming all this while, now I know its not good to swallow eba in the morning.