Chapter 23: Chapter 23
CHAPTER 20
A week before: Sunday, 20th November.
It was the third Sunday of the month, and they had the usual Anointing service in the church. The last Sunday of the month would be Passover service. The air was still filled with worship songs. The voice of the pastor was still lingering on the ears of the congregation, and their prayers still burning with the smoke ascending to heaven. Teju and Simi informed the pastor of their imminent wedding anniversary, and their wish to do ‘Thanksgiving’ in the church. They left church early. They did not wait behind for the usual spiritual counselling or the group meetings after the service- Men Warrior’s Meeting, Youth Meeting, the Singles Meeting, the Couples Meeting and all others. Everyone met in their various groups for a forthcoming church programme, or a visitation exercise, or an evangelistic mission, or even to plan a wedding or funeral service of one member of the church.
They have to eat their lunch and get ready for the party. Tiwa, one of Simi’s good and long-standing friends was having her birthday party at her residence in Oluyole Estate, and Sam and his wife were coming. Tiwa was a daughter of a politician- a senator, and there was no doubt, not even an iota of doubt that the party would be big. The party would be filled with big shots, top-notch personalities, tycoons, and celebrities, and it was not reasonable for them to stay back.
Tiwa was rich and beautiful. Though most of her wealth was sourced from her Dad, and the source of her Dad’s wealth was not perplexing to specify either. Tiwa had attended the same primary school with Simi in Lagos when her Dad had not become an election-winning politician. She did have a Mom, but her parents managed a fractured marriage which led to a separation between them. Immediately her Dad won a seat in the house of reps, she was transferred to a more prestigious school, leaving Simi behind.
Though Simi had her secondary and tertiary education in Ibadan, Tiwa had run into Simi on Facebook and they have kept in contact with each other. Tiwa was also a graduate. She had been in the University of Lagos when Simi was in the University of Ibadan. According to Simi, she recently bagged her Master's Degree in Sociology from the University of Liverpool, England. Teju had met Tiwa a lot of times after Simi had introduced him to her as her boyfriend. Somehow, she had started to relate with him as a friend rather than as the boyfriend or husband of her friend. Probably that was why she had personally invited him to her birthday party. Teju was not sociable and he was not particularly inclined to partying. He had accepted the invitation in the hope that he would meet some of the big politicians. Having acquaintances with influential people in the country was a priceless asset to any common man.
It would have been ideal to say Tiwa lived in utopia except that she was celebrating her twenty-nineth birthday, and yet she was neither married nor engaged. In this part of the world, being unmarried at the age of twenty-eight especially as a woman could amount to social stigma. They will compare such woman to a body with no head. Don’t you want to have a family of your own, don’t you want to have children, and don’t you want to feel the joy of motherhood? They will ask with their faces tightened like a knot around a ram’s neck. One could only justify one’s singleness at that age if one was a nun locked up in a monastery. But then, one could never get their disdainful eyes off one’s body. You are an alien who deserved to be treated as such.
Some blogs have even propounded a theory to explain the mystery behind her staunch resolve not to get married. She was a militant feminist who could not stand the presence of a man as a husband in her life, they had explained. It was horrible; bloggers have to eat nonetheless. People had taken her condition at the wrong end of the stick. They had misconstrued her state with spite. Tiwa had once told Teju how much she was interested in marriage. She was only being courted either by men who were her father’s age mate or half-witted young men who did not genuinely love her but were after her money.
When they got home, Simi dished up a lunch of white rice and stew. She had woken up early enough to cook both breakfast and lunch so there would be no delay when they got back. After the meal, it was already thirty minutes past three, and that was just the time to start dressing up for the party. They still had to buy birthday gifts for the celebrant. Simi wore a white knee-level gown. Her eyelids, chins and lips were purple-coloured. Her bag was black, and her high-heels were gold-coloured. Teju was in his boring dark-blue suit, a black shirt and no tie.
At Tiwa’s residence, fleets of expensive cars had already put the whole place under a siege, ready to attack. Police patrol vehicles dotted the place. Policemen and women made a tour of duty around with their batons and AK 47s in hand. Teju and other less important people like him had to park their cars somewhere else and walk down to the venue. At first, Teju believed that the residence which was a massive mansion was a family house, but Simi had told him it was Tiwa’s house, and not the family’s.
The house was a large duplex with a very complex structure. Teju found the word ‘duplex’ uncanny and very much unfit to describe the house. Teju wondered what their family house would look like if a daughter’s house could be that big. Probably it would be a skyscraper or a big temple. The house was painted white, plain white with no intercepting colour. At the top of the house was an inscription- ‘TIWA’S PALACE’. Teju nodded in agreement as he read it. The compound was bare save for the assorted flowers arrayed in vases to beautify it.
The interior was breath-taking. Perhaps it would have been more breath-taking if it was not crowded with heads and voices speaking at the same time. The parlour of the house was a very big space with the ceiling soaring high as though it was going the touch the sky. It was lighted by three enormous chandeliers. The high quality of the yellow lights poured on the faces of the attendees, on the white walls, and the champagne glasses. There were enough familiar faces around to keep both Simi and Teju busy. They could not even set eyes on the celebrant to present their gifts. Simi had bought a set of expensive pieces of jewellery. Teju had bought a bouquet of roses, but for the thirty minutes he was busy with the chit-chats, he felt like dropping the bouquet into a trash bin.