The cars were done and I paid heavily. I had left Lagos with sufficient funds to cover all eventualities on the way, but I had not foreseen the magnitude. However, I thought I could scrape through and get every part of my mission accomplished. I got home and readied my people for the journey.
In my culture, all components of the family must be taken to witness the event. Although in tradition, a trip of the type we were to embark on should indeed be the first of a series, distance and convenience had given room to people to do what could be done in one single trip. The ‘inquiry’ wine (mmanya ajuju), which should end with “we have sighted someone in your household we would be interested in, and came to ask if she is engaged”, was loaded up with a number of other rites. The reply to the ajuju in tradition should have been: “I do not know whether my daughter has made any commitment behind my back. Why don’t you depart? I will make contact with her. When I have established her status, I will let you know.”
The next visit should have been consequent upon a message from the father of the bride to the effect that his daughter was not committed. The purpose of the trip would then have been to ask if we might come and speak of her. At this point, it would have been vital to have an ‘agent’ (onye nkwa) in the clan of the bride to guide the prospective suitor. The agent would be expected to lead the suitor’s people in truth for a fee or for fulfilment of bonds of friendship. The agent would dig up as much of the family as possible, so that if there were reasons for not continuing with the intention, no further commitment need be made. The agent should reveal the status of the family to the visitor. He would reveal the health status of the family and what may be done to appease an oracle that may have found against the family or any such conditions.
If the coast proved to be clear, then the main well-informed, nuptial journey would have to be undertaken with the correct retinue of members of the family of the suitor. Of course, the retinue of members of the family of the bride should also be in complete attendance. That is the main ceremony called the Wine Carrying Ceremony or Nrisa in my own culture. It should really be at a third visit that the bride would have to be asked the question in full glare of the two families involved, if she was prepared to accept the hand of the suitor in marriage. I must say the second trip following message that their daughter was not committed should ask if the suitor’s family might approach the bride’s family in a bid to marry both families. In tradition, marriage is not between two people; it is between two families, villages and sometimes clans. That still stands. But the procedure has been whittled down considerably.
The pollution of the churches and the waning of tradition on account of the craze for wealth and power in the idiom of the white man had compelled a change in the demands of marriage. It is usual now to complete the marriage in one movement. It is only important for the key players to be in attendance. Family rifts of all kinds have made rites of passage of a bride less glamorous than tradition provided. Families that are at peace with themselves would not accept any Wine Carrying Ceremony to take place outside their homestead in full attendance of all who would be concerned from both mother-side and father-side of both suitor and bride.
In the case of the Aginas, it was easy to deduce that their extended family at their home in Umuoji was not together or there was envy, which pressed for release by holding events away from home. I confess, I did not visit their home in Umuoji. Perhaps that afflicted our passage somehow. Somehow, I believed they had something to hide. I had abundant warnings in my bid to take her hands in marriage. I did not heed them and I have no regrets.
I got to my village and briefed the head of my family on my plans. He sent for all my cousins paternal and maternal and announced my plan. It was really their deal not mine. I was to bring the money, period. The head of my family, James Nwogidi Odu, on my behalf, arranged the trip, carrying all the usual accompaniments for the trip. Kolanuts, palm wine, beer, tobacco, gin, soft drinks, and a few trimmings which I thought would make the event memorable.
It was amazing that though we set out from my village early in the morning of the appointed day to collect my paternal cousin, Adolphus Achilonu, from his village of birth in Umuokisi Amuzi. We were not to leave the cluster of clans of Mbaise, until well beyond 10 o’clock in the morning. We were held up by a swampy stretch of road that led from my cousins’ village to Okigwe-Umuahia Road. Just as we made to leave the precincts of my cluster of clans, we sank into a shallow bug. I lost my right tie rod in that bug as we pushed and raved the car to overcome the loss of traction. It was in the middle of the rainy season and we were pitiable images of a band of prospective in-laws on a marriage adventure. When we were released from the bug by infusion of help from neighbours of my cousin, Dede Adolphus, the car clattered at every little bump. The bug had held us down for the better part of two hours. It was apparent that there was an eloquent warning about that trip. Everyone on the trip hinted that it was a bad omen.
(To be continued)