Written by Esther Estelle (www.thewayestherseesit.blogspot.com)
“I called off the wedding… I couldn’t continue anymore!” said the tiny voice I could recognise as I picked up my phone.
“Danielle! Are you high? How will you call a wedding off two weeks to the D-day? I just paid for my Jimmy Choo shoe and bag for your wedding o!” I said
I was seething at probably my best friend, and mostly at myself for not postponing payment on Jumia for another thirty minutes.
“Danielle! Are you still there? Do you want to tell me what this madness is about? Are you okay? Should I come over?” I asked all at once.
At this point, my anger had dissolved and all I felt was pity for my best friend who had looked forward to her wedding day for so long. Only God knows what had happened. All I could hear was sniffles and I knew she was definitely sitting in her favourite grief corner in her bathroom, bawling her eyes out.
“Danielle! If you won’t talk to me over the phone, then you better open your door in the next ten minutes because I’m coming over!” I was getting hysterical at this point.
I was wondering if she caught Nick with another woman or had she caught him before and kept it to herself till she could no longer? Was that why she said she couldn’t continue anymore?
No! Nick wouldn’t do that, he knows I’d have his balls for dinner that’s if Danielle didn’t beat me to it. I was driving dangerously and hoping LASTMA or the police won’t stop me and at the same time, praying my friend hadn’t done something stupid like drink some antiseptic or cut herself.
As I approached her gate, dread overwhelmed me and I didn’t bother honking or waiting for Abdul, her security, to let me in, I just jumped out of the car straight into the compound.
I knocked once and the door opened immediately. There was Danielle, my best friend and sister, standing behind the door in her bathrobe with a piece of paper in her hand, her sunken eyes staring wide at me and I wondered how many buckets her tears would have possibly filled.
“Danielle! You wrote a suicide note?” I asked in a shaky voice I didn’t even recognise as mine.
“No Stupid! You know I won’t kill myself na! Life is too sweet to commit suicide.” She replied and feigned laughter; I approached her carefully “Then what’s written in the piece of paper in your hand?” I asked.
“It’s The List!” she muttered.
The List? Oh! The List!!! Snap! I had totally forgotten about it until now. You see, The List was a list of the qualities we wanted in the man we would marry, our ideal/dream men. Call us juvenile but I’m quite sure everyone has a list of the sort, written or not.
We, being Danielle, Darrelle (Danielle’s twin sister), Zara, Muna and I, made these lists on our respective sixteenth (16th) birthdays and we all promised and swore our choices would be by the books.
Zara got married first to Paul, her husband, who was nothing close to her list. Short, stocky, annoying and disgusting Paul was very rich, Zara being the materialist that she was, claimed she loved him heart, soul, body and mind and damn whatever anyone thought, she was marrying him.
I wasn’t totally surprised though. I mean, when has Zara not liked competitions? Heck! She’s my friend but truth be told, she was the total definition of a bitch. When we wrote entrance examinations into secondary school and her mum chose a “less than Zara’s standard” school. I’ll never forget the constant tantrums she threw and how she always chipped it in every discussion that it was because her mum was a miser else she would be in better schools than ours.
Another scenario was when we got into the University, and Muna and Zara had to stay in the school’s hostel? Lord! If Muna wasn’t a strong-willed girl, I’m sure she’d have caved under Zara’s constant jeerings and slid into depression. I could go on and on about Zara non-stop but then her union really didn’t surprise me.
Danielle refused to attend the wedding as she and Zara had never seen eye to eye about some things especially men, but that was even minute as compared to the huge fallout they had the night Zara announced their engagement.
Danielle had brought out Zara’s list to remind her of all she had written just four (4) years ago, and all Zara could point out was the fact that her list and Paul had something in common- money. I picked up fingernails, false eyelashes, some clips of hair and a sole of someone’s shoes after the fight.
Their wedding was the talk of the town and so was their divorce settlement 2 years later. Everyone who was someone was present at the wedding and Paul’s “I’m back in the market” party shrugs
Quite absurd people, right? Danielle was also present in the courtroom with the most expensive bottle of champagne she could afford, which she popped immediately the judge was out of court.
Muna was next to get hooked and till this day, five years after her wedding, we still tease her hubby, Somto, if he has friends like him to hook us up lol.
He was good like that. I try not to be overly friendly with my friends’ men; lovers, friends with benefits, or whatever titles they had, but with Somto, you can’t help yourself.
He was everything on Muna’s and everyone else’s lists and some more. He dotted on her like the sun rose and set on her face, he adored her and I must confess, I still feel the green-eyed monster grow whenever I’m around them.
Their wedding day couldn’t come quicker after they announced the engagement. They got married when we were twenty-four (24) and I don’t know if I’ve had a happier day than that day.
At the reception, Muna’s mom danced to our table and asked, “Which of you darlings is the next bride?” I could feel Walter, my boyfriend, dissolve into thin air beside me like the question was meant for him, “Coward“, I muttered beneath my breath.
As always, Danielle and Darrelle, forever in constant rivalry, couldn’t take an exception this time, “Mama! It’s me o!” they screamed in unison. Our “Tokunbo“, as we called Zara since her divorce, also answered, “Mama! I’m the next bride.” I scoffed and feigned choking before I received the resetting slap Zara was famous for.
“Kamso! Would you be a referee in this matter?” it was Danielle and Darrelle again. sighs
Only God knows what they were betting on this time. What haven’t they betted on already?
“Sure! Why not?” I replied.
“We’re betting 10k each. The first person to get a serious boyfriend in the next four (4) months gets the 20k. ”
That was a nice bet and instantly I got alerts of 10k each.