Tamarind (E08)

[Welcome back! Been quite a week but I know you’ve been waiting for this one…Happy reading. (As always: All events and characters in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.) (Not sure why I felt I should give a disclaimer but…) ]

“Oh-kay! That’s it. All done here.” Ricka said in excitement, spinning Emefa round so the Bride-to-be could take a look at herself in the mirror.

Emefa shrieked in excitement, “I totally love it! Very subtle. I still look like me just… you know….a bit more spalalala.” The two laughed.

“Which one too is ‘spalala’?” Ricka asked with a smirk.

“Oh it’s in the dictionary. It means I look a-…”

“…mazing! That word is in only your dictionary, Emefa. ” Maame laughed. “Are you ready? They’re asking for you out there.”

“I’m ready. I woke up ready. In fact, I was born ready to be Mrs. Asare-Menako.” Emefa replied. “I just need help lacing up this…” Emefa reached out behind her with both hands, trying to lace up her dress, “…this…” Emefa stretched further, ” ….this….Kente.”

“Here, I’ve got this” Ricka reached out to lace up Emefa’s Kente dress. “Emefa, this style is for people with flat tummies“

“I’m a flat tummy girl in transit please.” Emefa replied giggling.

“Let’s try this. Hold your breath and tuck in your tummy whilst I pull.” Ricka suggested

“I already am. It’s just a bit tight I guess. Maybe I’ve gained weight.”

Ricka began pulling on both ends of the string, “It’s supposed to be tight. That’s how corseted dresses work.” She paused and then added in a whisper, “If you can breathe well, then it’s not serving it’s purpose.”

“Oww! Ricka easy! I can’t even breathe properly.”

“You’re not supposed to breathe at all in this. Didn’t you hear what I said? That’s the inspiration behind the design.” Ricka giggled

Maame stepped in, “Looking at it, you’d think the dress was not meant for you. Here. Just loosen this line a bit.” Then Maame loosened the straps slightly, tying the two loose ends together in a bow. “There. Emefa, how do you feel now?”

“Still. Calculated breathing but it’s much better than before.” Emefa replied.

Just then, there was a knock on the door and a voice called out from the hallway, “Are you ladies done yet? People are getting grumpy from all the waiting.”

“We’re coming!” Maame shouted back. She turned to Emefa, “Let’s just go now. “

Emefa stepped out of the room with Maame and Ricka behind her. She made her way for the hall where Jamal, both their families and other guests were seated waiting for her.

Emefa stepped into the hall and the room filled with silence. Jamal, who had been seated with his head bowed, looked up at her. Their eyes locked and they smiled at each other. In that instant, it felt as though they were the only two people in the entire universe. Emefa’s gaze shifted to the empty seat next to Jamal. She grinned and thought to herself, “Time to take my place as Queen beside my King.” That was when she realized she had stopped walking and had been standing staring at her husband-to-be. She smiled shyly, covered half her face with her embellished feather fan.

Emefa began walking towards the empty seat next to her husband-to-be. Her dress seemed to get tighter with every step. She moved her left hand to the back of the waistline of her dress and, in a subtle gesture, pulled at the dress, in an attempt to ease the tightness. That didn’t help. If anything, it seemed to make things worse.

Emefa stopped three steps short of getting to the empty seat. Her outfit had become so tight she could literally not move. Emefa looked around the room, everyone was watching her with expectant eyes. She could see her family, her friends, Jamal’s family, everyone with the exception of Aunty Menaye. In spite of Emefa’s discomfort, she smiled, pleased that the one person who had tried to ruin her big day had not even been able to attend the ceremony at the end of the day. Emefa returned her gaze to Jamal, hoping he would read and understand the message in her eyes and help her with her dress. Instead, he sat smiling and gesturing for her to come to him, oblivious to her plight.

Emefa continued in her efforts to move towards the empty seat but her dress made it impossible for her to move. Emefa reached out behind her to loosen the strings. Her hands touched something. She froze. There was a hand holding on to the strings of her dress. She span around and discovered to her horror, that the hand was Aunty Menaye’s. There was a loud clap of thunder, then it began to rain heavily.

Emefa sat up in bed startled. It was raining heavily outside. That dream had felt so real, it took her nearly thirty minutes to convince herself that was a dream. She curled her knees upward and tested her chin on them. She sat quietly looking around her room with the little light streaming in through her window from the outdoor lighting. The rain seemed to be getting heavier by the minute. Emefa climbed hesitantly out of bed to pull her curtains shut. She returned to her bed and pulled her duvet to her chin. What time was it anyway? She groped around her bed for her phone and checked the time. 2:47am.

Emefa checked her notifications. She had missed many calls and messages from the night before. She had been so tired after the bridal shower last night, and had gone right to bed when she got home. Emefa unlocked her screen and dragged down her notifications bar. She had 3 missed calls from Eben, 2 missed calls from her counsellors, 3 missed calls from Jamal, 1 missed call from Jamal’s mother and 1 WhatsApp message from Aunty Menaye saying, “Your presence is requested at my house by 2:47pm tomorrow without fail.” If Emefa had had any difficulty going back to sleep earlier, she was very much awake now more than ever. There was only one thing in her mind: 2:47

[Thanks for reading. Tamarind continues next week! Till then, stay safe.]