Bride Price ✔

II

If you no gimme, I no go take
Only your love I appreciate

-No Kissing Baby, Patoranking & Sarkodie

...

Papa was a typical Yoruba man. At his age, he had already gained a potbelly, mostly from drinking palm wine and eating pounded yam all the time. A sturdy man, he was swift in his steps, inspite of the potbelly, and had his lips permanently pressed in a thin, ugly line.

It was strange to think that he had once wooed Mama Abebi, but no one bothered to think about that. He was a hunter,  during the night, and a farmer by day. A stern man, he was quick to distribute punishments on whoever bothered to disobey him, wife or child, yet slow to give cowries for anything his wives asked for.

So when Abebi saw the large pouch of cowries that her Papa had given to Mama for the shopping, she couldn't mask her surprise.

"You're surprised abi? Your papa wants one of you to catch the eye of the Oba. If one of you do, and I pray to the gods that it would be you, this one that I'm carrying in my wrapper, would be nothing compared to what the King would give to us." Her Mama explained gleefully as they left the house early the next day. Mama refused to let Mama Yetunde know about her plans, part of the usual rivalry between the two wives.

The children knew it was because Papa called Mama Yetunde to his hut more often than he called Mama Abebi. When it came to food, Mama Abebi was his favourite, but to lay with one of his wives, Mama Yetunde was his first pick. She couldn't blame him, the second wife was still young, her breasts were still firm, her stamina still going strong, but that didn't stop the jealousy.

So she cornered Papa first, getting as much money as she could for her only remaining daughter Abebi. Mama Abebi had brought ten children into this world, three that had to be sent back to the gods, and the other seven, Oshun was generous to let her have them. As Abebi was her only remaining daughter, she was going to make sure she married the Oba.

Being the in-law of the King? Now Mama Yetunde would be nothing compared to her.

...

After walking about the market square, looking at eager women pushing their tie and dye fabrics into their faces, Abebi was finally happy when Mama picked one. It was a two piece wrapper, one for her breasts, and the other as a skirt. She liked the pattern of blue and white on it and would have loved the attire if it wasn't for the event she had to wear it to.

Mama had made sure the bottom wrapper was cut to reach just below her knee, saying that men loved modest women, yet she would tie it tight so it showed off her hips. Mama also made an appointment with the local hairdresser, one of the best in the kingdom, begging her to please do something about Abebi's short and uneven hair. After getting various beads for her hands, waists and ankles, they finally got home.

Mama warned her to keep silent about it to everyone, and dismissed her for the day, which was good because there was something Abebi wanted to do.

Walking deep in the forest, Abebi knew the trail by heart, and knew the exact tree that she would be going to. This happened once a full moon to avoid suspicion, but every evening, before Mama began to make dinner, Abebi made her way into the forest to meet him.

"My Lord, are you there?" She called out gently, afraid that someone else would be there and catch her in the act. For a young maiden herself to meet with an unmarried man in a secluded place, that was as good as prostitution.

"Abebi?" His deep voice called and her heart missed a few beats.

"That is my name." She replied, walking closer to where he was. "My Lord." She greeted, going on her two knees.