SHORT STORY: LUCID
By Grace Omolola Odukoya
My hips swayed to the tune of “For You” by Davido and Teni, his arms around me as he caressed my clavicle. I placed my hand on my belly, hoping that one day, I’ll carry our baby. Today was our tenth anniversary and we had scaled through the ordeals. In ten days, I’ll be his bride.
“Mrs Alao…” it was a cute name, but I would not be adopting it. After years of obstinate feminism, I had won the hard-fought battle against my parents. I would be keeping my birth name, thank you. Imade shook his head, his perfect smile adorning his dimpled cheeks as I announced that I would not be kneeling or making a vow to obey my husband.
My mother had screamed, “Mo gbe o! (I'm doomed!)” Her efforts to mould me to the perfect african wife had been in vain. I smirked as she held my fiance’s shirt, begging him to talk sense to his wife’s head.
“Iwo lo l’ori e (You’re her head). Control her! Iwo l’Okunrin (You’re the man)!” she crooned like a bird with the seed stuck in its throat. I walked away triumphantly, leaving Imade to pacify her.
“Wake up, Laide!” Anu tapped me, “Mom said staying indoors will not help you get over the scoundrel.” My heart dropped as I wiped off the spit that rolled down from my mouth. I groaned, “Another dream about the jerk” It’s been years since I was jilted.
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