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...
