It was an uncertain year - life as I knew it was rolling to an end. There was a general global down-turn in the market place; and my country's economy in particular, was in turmoil owing to suspect fiscal policies. My own life seemed to be mirroring this general sorry state of affairs - with college days coming to an end; And having inherited no connections or developed credible networks, I was worried about my future beyond Mount Pleasant. Going back to the dusty streets of a high density neighbourhood was not an option. To further complicate my small life, I was also beginning to second guess my commitment to a tall, handsome
young man - whom I had exclusively dated during my college days.
So that winter our relationship buckled under my insecurities; And I walked away from the four year deal, which had naively been negotiated to culminate into a big "white" wedding, accompanied by a bigger honeymoon to consummate the rest of our lives. Time to reflect and needing space were cited as reasons. There were tears, accusations of betrayal and at times harsh words were exchanged; But the decision had been made – I swam to the “single and available” shore once again.
I was solidly single - roaming free, leading a care-free life and should have been happy – but the silence was deafening. So I sent a request to the universe – for a tall, dark, handsome stranger, who would give me a big white wedding and take me to Fiji for a honeymoon – and a host of other qualities. It was a long list. The preacher man had said to be specific in our requests.
The rest of that year was however busy, there were projects to conclude, examinations to pass, jobs to find and relocations to consider – so that filled the silence and the year went by. I received some applications, entertained a few – but none matched the long profile.
Then he quietly worked his way into my life. He was handsome but short – and so could not have been the answer to my request. I relaxed in his presence, coining the phrase “friend” to describe our casual chats. I even confided in him about potentials who were chasing me; or I was chasing.
One evening, after a particularly bruising encounter with a“Mr Potential”, I broke down and cried, prompting him to say “You don’t know how much you are worth”. I could hardly sleep that night – as I pondered over that statement. What worth was he talking about – of course I knew my value – or did I? If I knew my value would I mourn over men who wouldn’t show up for appointments? Would I cry over men who resented my independence; Would I cry over men whose fidelity was questionable – would I, would I? And I had an “Aha moment” that night………….. God was still in the business of answering prayers, and He definitely did not think tall was what I needed.
There was no big “white” wedding, no Fiji – just a low key family affair where money, cattle and some gifts exchanged hands; And on some forgettable date we alerted the state, who obliged by giving us a certificate.
It has been eleven years – a short eleven years – we have moved houses a remarkable seven times, moving countries in the process. We have cooperated in the creation of a beautiful human being – we have lost a father, we have graduated, we have laughed, we have grown – Norway replaced Fiji, BUT he still owes me a big “white” wedding!
