I come from a Yoruba family, which means I have a lot of people — cousins, nieces, nephews, aunties, uncles… the list never really ends. So family weddings are never just weddings; they’re meet-and-greets disguised as celebrations
On this beautiful Saturday, I showed up ready. My asoebi was snatched, my makeup was on point, and I just wanted to have a good time. It was my niece’s wedding, and I was so happy for her. She’s such a pretty lady, and I couldn’t stop smiling every time I looked at her.
At a family wedding, you already know the routine. You smile until your cheeks start to hurt, greet every elder, hug people you haven’t seen in years, and pretend you remember exactly who they are. Still, sometimes I can’t help but wonder… do some of them actually come to celebrate, or are they there to gather updates on everyone’s life?
Because before the food was even served, it started.
The first one came softly, almost like concern.
“Dara, how are you now? What’s going on in your life?”
I smiled. “I’m good, ma.”
She looked me up and down, smiled, and then said, “You’re looking beautiful. So what about… you know,” she lowered her voice, “marriage?”
I gave the same fake laugh I’ve learned over the years, the one that sounds polite but carries nothing inside it.
“Soon, ma.”
She nodded, satisfied, like I had just given her something to hold on to. But I knew that wasn’t the end of it — you and I both know that it never is.
Not even ten minutes later, I felt a hand on my arm.
“Ahn ahn, Dara!”
I turned, and there she was — Aunty Bisi, the one who always smells like strong perfume and unwanted advice.
“When are we coming to your own wedding? Or do you want us to wait forever?” she said, laughing.
Before I could even respond, she added, “This your niece now, you’re older than her o. Don’t you think it’s time?”
That word — time — always irks me.
Because how do you explain that it’s not just about meeting a man, it’s about meeting the right one?
How do you explain that the dating market is filled with men who do not know what they want; men who will call you every day, act like you’re the only woman in the world, then suddenly disappear when it’s time to be clear about their intentions?
Or that sometimes, you’re not even ready for marriage, because you have goals and dreams you actually want to accomplish first?
So again, I smiled.
“I’m not in a rush, ma.”
She laughed louder this time, almost dismissive. “You say that now. Just be careful o, and don’t wait too long, ejoor.”
I nodded slowly, then added, “Aunty, if I rush and pick the wrong person, you people will still be the ones asking me why I didn’t wait.”
For a second, Aunty Bisi paused.
Then she forced a small laugh. “You this girl…”
But she didn’t have a follow-up.
And just like that, she walked away, leaving her words sitting on my chest like weight I didn’t ask for.
I finally made my way back to my seat and had barely picked up my spoon when someone dropped into the chair beside me.
Dami, my cousin. Her face was tight with frustration, her phone landing on the table a little too hard.
“Men are actually funny,” Dami muttered.
I turned immediately. “What happened?”
Dami let out a dry laugh. “This guy I’ve been talking to, the one that was acting serious? He just told me he’s ‘not in the right headspace for a relationship’… after two months of talking every single day.”
I blinked. “Two months?”
“Every single day,” Dami repeated. “Calls, texts, good morning, good night… everything. Now suddenly he’s confused.”
I leaned back slowly, a small knowing smile forming on my lips.
“Ah,” I said with a smirk. “A classic.”
Dami looked at me. “You too?”
I nodded. “Different names, same script.”
For a moment, we just sat there, and then burst out laughing.
From across the table, Aunty Bisi was still watching.
“So what are you girls even doing?” she asked. “In our time, things were not this complicated.”
I turned to her and replied calmly, “Aunty, in your time, men used to know what they wanted on time.”
Dami choked on her drink.
Aunty Bisi paused, clearly not expecting that.
I picked up my spoon again like nothing had happened.
“Now,” I added lightly, “we’re helping them figure it out.”
Dami burst out laughing.
And for the first time that evening, I actually felt a little lighter.
See you next Saturday.
Xoxo, Dara.
Did You Read: Dara’s Corner- Are You Really Dating Them… or Their Entire Family?
