Saturday 5 December 2009

Opening the mouth of the father - Part 1

Maybe just maybe
Maybe just maybe, it was a recommendation from big brother, a nice girl who would make a beautiful wife, I know her family well.
Maybe indeed big brother is unto something that would redeem the unbrotherliness of time past, fingers crossed and all boxes about to be crossed too.
My friend said at first, you cannot have similarities, having spent more than half your life in Europe, the idea that you are of similar cultures is just out of the question, you change and adapt when you live elsewhere, the pretensions to keeping abreast of developments at home in terms of culture is delusional at best.
Are we like them too?
Beyond that, we would probably never get wives like the generation of our mothers whose forbearance in the midst of untenable circumstance can only be considered legendary, they in some cases served their husbands like slaves and were under the stress and constant threat of the other woman, real or imagined.
The generation of our fathers cannot be said to have been the most gentlemanly in terms of the way they sometimes wielded power in their fiefdoms.
Partnerships of today call for cooperation rather than unquestioned submission; there has to be adjustments on all sides. The subjugation of the wife to the point that she cannot be self-reliant because of the egotistical demeanour of the husband would put the marriage in the divorce courts long before the bridegroom has been opportuned to kiss the bride.
Many long distance calls
The groundwork had been set for the beginning of a wonderful partnership as each party tried to determine if the other was the person with whom vows intended and pretended could be made.
With numbers acquired, the affair began on the phone, a girl in university, irrationally scared of her father but seemingly interesting, for months, the expectations blossomed into possibilities with niggling doubts.
Maybe, just maybe the peeling of the bells will be heard soon.
To be continued...

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