Tamarind (E03)

Welcome back! So….I have concluded that, we all need a little bit (just a little, too much would be catastrophic) of Emefa’s vim to push back when doors are shut in our faces, cause eii?! Ah well…. back to our story… (Catch up on previous episodes here)

Jamal tried to focus on his laptop screen but his mind kept wandering. He had missed his dad’s call this morning and knew it could only be about Aunty Menaye’s role at his wedding. This should really not be a big deal, right? It had been a few weeks since he informed Emefa of the discussion with his dad and his aunt. Emefa had seemed to be against the idea, but that was all she had said. If only she knew what else they had said to him. He was glad he had not shared with Emefa, the other things Aunty Menaye had said about her (Emefa), else there would probably not be a wedding, to begin with.

He picked his phone and messaged Emefa.

“Babes”

Two ticks; delivered, but no reply. Emefa seemed a bit distant lately but he assumed it was wedding plans. The couple had talked about other things related to the wedding, but not Aunty Menaye. Emefa had been meeting vendors, firming up details for the wedding. Today, she had said she was meeting the caterer.

Jamal sent another message: “You good?”

Delivered. Still no reply.

“Baby”

Still nothing.

“I see you online. Say something.”

No reply.

“Emefs Estate👀“

“Ah!🤣🤣🤣 You, you’re not romantic oo.” Emefa finally replied.

“I knew that one would draw you out. 😜” Jamal teased.

“😏. I won’t even mind you. How did your presentation go?”

“Okay, I guess.“

“Just okay?”

“Yeah… couldn’t concentrate.“

“Don’t go all corny on me and say it’s cause you were thinking about me. 🙈”

“Um…now this is awkward. I was going to say I was struggling to stay awake after hanging out after work with the guys, but I’ll go with yours: ‘I was thinking about me 🤪’ “

“Ah Ji! 🤣”

Emefa laughed, covering her eyes with her right hand. Jamal just knew how to make her laugh even when she was upset. Loving him was easy and she couldn’t wait to be officially Mrs. Asare-Menako. Sigh. The mention of the family name brought thoughts of Aunty Menaye and all her troubles back to Emefa’s mind. It’s fine. We just have to get through the wedding and we can go live our lives without her. Emefa convinced herself.

It was as though Jamal had read her mind.

“So I’ve been thinking…. can we we just let Aunty Mena cut the cake with us. Doesn’t really matter okay? It’ll mean a lot to her, and me too. But of course, if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

Jamal waited for Emefa to text him back. She was typing. Then not typing. Then typing. What was she going to say now? He was glad he had never let her see Aunty Menaye’s messages in response to the announcement of their engagement. He had deleted them quickly when he saw them. Emefa had his phone earlier that evening but she never asked him about it so she probably never saw them…. at least so he thought. Either way, he felt he had taken care of matters.

Aunty Menaye had asked to speak to Jamal on a number of occasions, trying to convince him to break off the engagement. But he had made it clear he was going to stick with his decision to marry Emefa. Then Aunty Menaye had said to him one day: “My church friend from the ladies wing says she saw in a vision that this is your set time to marry. Since this is the one currently, we will just accept things as they are.” Jamal had said nothing. He did not believe in all that but, if that was what it took to get Aunty Menaye on board, so be it.

His phone vibrated. It was Emefa.

“Ji. I really don’t know. I mean she raised you and means a lot to you and all. But I’m not sure it’s just about the ‘witch comment’ for me. But let’s talk more about it later and finalise things. I don’t know…”

“Sure. Cool” Jamal was relieved. Emefa seemed to be considering the possibility of giving Aunty Menaye a role. That was a good sign. He could inform Aunty Menaye over the weekend when he and Emefa went over.

*******************************************

Back at the caterer’s, Emefa sat quietly. She was supposed to be taking pictures of wedding menus to share with Jamal. Instead she was staring at her phone screen, wondering whether to let Jamal know she knew about Aunty Menaye’s comments on their engagement or not. She typed a response. Then deleted it. Typed another, then deleted it again. She really did not want Aunty Menaye to join them cut their wedding cake. It was probably just superstition but didn’t they say whoever you cut the cake with had an influence in your marriage? Did she want Aunty Menaye to cut their cake with them? She texted to ask Jamal to let them talk about it later, to which he replied, “Sure. Cool.”

Emefa looked up. The caterer was looking at her. Emefa could tell the caterer was trying to remain pleasant, but was starting to get irritated. Emefa had spent most of their discussion texting. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“I was asking if you have any ideas yet on what you would like on the dinner menu.” The caterer replied.

“Oh no. Not yet. For now, I’m sharing these with my fiancé, then I’ll let you know when we’re ready. Thank you.” She took a picture of the last menu and then stood to leave. “I’ll call you.“

Emefa walked out of the restaurant, and checked how far off her Uber was. Your driver has arrived. She looked around. There he was. She opened the door at the back, and sat in the backseat. Back to work. She checked the time; she had exhausted her lunch break and had not eaten yet. Great. She’ll just pray and count it as fasting towards her wedding. She bowed her head, “Dear God, please make Aunty Menaye just leave us alone to marry in peace! Amen!” Emefa paused, That should do it, she thought. Then got lost again in wedding planning and checking Instagram pages…

******************************************

Two days later, Jamal and Emefa stopped by Aunty Menaye’s on their way back from their premarital counselling class. The two were seated in the couch, holding hands. Today was the day they had finally had the conversation about Aunty Menaye’s role at their wedding and concluded she could cut the cake with them. For Jamal, holding hands meant they had connected on a new level and were finally in agreement regarding his aunt. For Emefa, holding hands was what she needed to assure her Jamal had her back in all this and she would not live to regret it. Aunty Menaye had sent her housekeeper to let them know she was on a call and would join them shortly. The two sat waiting.

The front door opened and Mark walked in. Mark was Aunty Menaye’s youngest child. If last born privileges were a person, that would have been Mark. Aunty Menaye had had Mark at a point in her life when most people would have thought she was too old to have another baby. And his father’s identity was only known to Aunty Menaye herself. No one in her life had the courage to press her for that information. Mark had tried it as a teenager and it had not ended well for him. He learnt never to bring it up again. Instead he called his mother ‘MoDa’, his way of saying she was both his ‘Mo-ther’ and ‘Da-d’. Aunty Menaye had assumed he was just pronouncing ‘mother’ differently, so she let it go.

Jamal let go of Emefa’s hand, stood up, and extended his hand towards Mark, in a casual handshake. “Chale. How be?”

“We dey inside” Mark looked in Emefa and nodded as a way of greeting. He looked back at Jamal. “Where old girl dey?”

“She dey in room. She talk say she dey come norr but you know am. “

They both laughed. Emefa smirked. She was uneasy and really just wanted this to end so she could go home. No lectures on lateness today, hopefully.

Mark looked at Emefa. “I’m sure you can already tell my family is a weird bunch.” Then he looked back at Jamal. “And old girl with all her strictness is no exception. Some message paa she send me eh? I no dey barb.”

Then Mark looked at Emefa again. “Can you believe my mother actually sent a message asking me to send her pictures of all my female friends and then tag the ones I consider beautiful? Did she think I would not realise she was trying to figure out who my girlfriend is so she can start giving me her troubles?” He laughed and shook his head. “So I actually replied, telling her I knew what she was doing. Only for her to say something about she recently met someone’s girlfriend and was disappointed or something. This woman dierr. ” Then he half-laughed half-shrugged and turned, heading for the kitchen. He called over his shoulder, “I’m starving. I’ll be back.” He was gone.

Jamal wished Mark had not just said that. He sat again and took Emefa’s hand. This time, it felt different, there was no connection. Great. Big mouth Mark.

Emefa sat quietly, she felt small. She knew exactly who Aunty Menaye was referring to, even though Mark had no idea what he had just said. She wished she could walk out and go home. Why had she even come here again? Aunty Menaye did not mean them well. Why had she agreed to let her cut their cake with them? Jamal was holding her hand again, but the reassurance she had earlier had evaporated.

Aunty Menaye walked in. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.” She turned to Jamal, “I was on the phone with your parents. We needed to conclude who will be representing us and presenting items to your fiancée’s family.”

Emefa tightened her grip on Jamal’s hand. Why was Aunty Menaye speaking as though she, Emefa, was not sitting right there?

Jamal responded. “Oh that’s great.”

Emefa was confused. That’s great? Jamal, you did not address her acting like I’m not here too. She squeezed his hand again, and smiled at Aunty Menaye. Aunty Menaye ignored her, focusing on Jamal. Emefa, keep your cool. New year, new you.

Then Jamal started, “We actually wanted to ask you something. Would you….” Emefa sat wishing she could communicate with Jamal telepathically. She had changed her mind. No, she cannot cut her wedding cake with this woman.

Jamal continued, “… do us the honour of being the witness when we sign the marriage registry and also cut our wedding cake with us.”

Emefa’s jaw dropped. She turned to face Jamal. He was avoiding her gaze. Emefa was in shock. Aunty Menaye?! Sign as a witness to her marriage?! Oh hell no!

Aunty Menaye smiled. Clearly, her earlier conversation with her brother had achieved the results she wanted. “Of course, I will. You don’t even need to ask. It’s like a foregone thing. The way you kept long in asking, I thought there was something holding you back.” Then she looked at Emefa with a sly grin.

Aunty Menaye: 1; Emefa: Nil

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