The Best Man

Hi everyone. A happy Sunday to you!

Okay, let's do this.

You know our Nollywood movies right? A man comes back home from work exhausted

and his wife rushes to him, takes off his blazers and says "Welcome darling! How was

work today? I prepared your favourite..." and the man would be like, "Which is?".

That's like the lamest question I have heard. Why is it your favourite if you don't know

what it is? This is one reason why I say marriage itself is a joke and the wedding is the

comedian.

I am really not fond of weddings. It makes me sad how people who were living their

happy lives, 'meet', 'fall in love' and then walk into something they aren't prepared for.

Something that brings pain with it, a place where you have to endure, endure and

endure. Working with my Dad had exposed me to many failed marriages looking for

ways to be mended because divorce is not an option. Many families have new cases

every morning. Weddings which make others happy, has a way of making me sober.

My first wedding as an adult was actually forcible, I had no excuse not to be present

because it was my MD's (Music Director's) wedding and I had to stand in for her. By

God's grace (as we were taught to say) I happened to be one of her most reliable

singers. Of course the last thing she would want is to play the video of her wedding and

hear off-notes here and there. Hence, I was present.

As I hit my favourite key, key G. I sang the usual Showers of Blessing as she walked down

the isle with the old man who I believed was her father. Looking into the veil I could tell that she was smiling. Everyone in church was drowned in the euphoria of the whole

wedding drama. Her husband (to-be) was in front with a straight face. The man was

quite cute but his best man should have been the husband, if you ask me.

While singing I still had fears for my music director. With all the biceps and triceps the

man has, won't he beat her some day?

I just imagined her coming for rehearsal either with a physical or emotional scar

saying..., "Today we would sing PEACE WHEN TROUBLE BLOWS...", I won't be surprised

if I laugh. This evil thought made me smile as I struck my last note of Amen.

Local woman had slotted my name in the programme for a special ministration. This

didn't go well with me at all. She just wanted me to do everything; from praise worship

session to hymn and now this. It wasn't too bad an idea though as it was yet another

opportunity to be used by God.

So I took my acoustic guitar, mounted it at the centre of the altar, I could see her smiling

as I did that. She loved my solos... according to her it gave her peace, and they were the

most times I expressed myself in songs. I never doubted her words, her honesty was to

depend on, and her depth in music is like an ocean.

I did a song by Tee Zion, 'My Love'. It was one of those songs that reminded me of the

fact that Jesus loves me and I could also be in love with HIM. Marriage can wait. His love

was simply enough for me because to me then, marriage was like going to have your

bath and then urinating in the toilet when you could just do it on the floor and let the

shower wash it all away.

While singing, something was really disturbing or should I say, what someone in the

congregation was doing got me bothered. It was the best man - the cute Best Man. He

had his eyes all over me and the way he smiled sheepishly was bothersome. On the flip

side, I liked it when he smiled at me though, he was very handsome. Made me wonder

why Aunty Idara didn't just marry the younger brother and leave this 'Anthony Joshua'

she's about to marry. It wasn't my business though. As for the Cute Man, probably he

was blessed and couldn't help but smile. People react differently in the physical to

spiritual things, right?

The applaud by the congregation that followed my ministration and the tears from my

MD's eyes gave me a sense of fulfilment and it made me love the Holy Spirit more.

Indeed, He's our helper.

After my ministration, I went outside. It had become a ritual for me. After singing, I race

to the bathroom, clean my face and most importantly, I pray.

On entering the Minister's toilet I began muttering prayers to the Holy Spirit while

washing my face. Then I heard a voice from behind say, "You sing very well". I was

mortified. Initially I felt like God was responding to my prayers. Then I turned and

realized it was the Best Man.

(Why's he here? Couldn't he have waited till the sermon was over?), I thought.

"You startled me, sir..." I responded, damping my face quickly.

"I listened to you sing and you took me to realms unexplainable. I have never heard a

voice so powerful yet spirit filled..."

(I am telling this one that he startled me he's here saying what I don't know, sounding

like one Radio Presenter…)

"Glory to God," I smiled "He's the giver of good gifts and it's all to His glory", I responded

The young man had the most charming face I've ever seen, and from the look of things

he didn't just come to appreciate me but to make me feel ugly, or uglier if I may say.

"I believe you came to ease yourself, right? Take care and enjoy the rest of the day" I

said to him and was about leaving when he pulled me back. (This kain Indian film sha)

"There's something on your hair...can I take it off?" He said smiling. I nodded in

agreement only for him to whisper something in my ear. I didn't hear all he said, maybe

because my nose was busy perceiving his apparently expensive perfume, still wondering

what I smelt like.

"I didn't hear what you said but I have to go back inside the church right away because I

might be needed..." I replied trying to walk away, Best Man still restrained me o.

"I said you're cute and I want to kiss you"

(Ah! Jehovah Tskendu! What's this one oh LORD! Which Kind handsome devil be this

na...)

I looked around to be sure the place occupied just the two of us. Well luckily we were,

not until one of the choristers, Femi opened the door forcefully to inform me that it was

time to sing another hymn.

That got me excited. Such a phase passed brilliantly. I adjusted every adjustable and

raced out of the bathroom with the Best Man trailing behind.

He ran ahead and inserted a card into my breast pocket and hurried into the church.

I didn't bother to find out what it was. On entering, Ruth had started singing already.

(Ride on my dear sister...no be only me Jesus die for).

"Holy Spirit may that be our last meeting..." I prayed.

That prayer must have fallen on the Stony ground.