I love weddings. Traditional African weddings, especially. I am very protective of them, and whenever I hear someone call them pre-weddings, I wear our ancestors’ armor and fight for its rightful position as a fully-fledged wedding. I have deleted numbers for this reason and unfriended some people for failing to put respect on the name, African Wedding!
To be honest, African weddings are the most elaborate, thoughtful, and soulful ceremonies to ever be convened. Everything has a sequence and purpose, from when families meet to the preparation process, the dressing, food, and the music.
Because of this, I dream about my Koito – wedding in my mother tongue – day and night. I have an entire Pinterest board with my invitation cards, gown, and what my groom, his men, and my maids will wear.
Last night, I had a mini-depression episode. To cope with it, I focused my energy on my upcoming Koito and ended up curating a whole playlist for my day. I didn’t finish collating the music because, with every song I listened to, I took an hour or so to think about the poetic prowess depicted in these songs. I got so emotional that I broke down at the depth of the endearments carried in these songs.
As a poet, I’ve always wished to be esteemed in poetry and oral song. I haven’t found that yet in a human, but the Koito songs from my community are the benchmark. Listening to them made me think about what my parents would do on my wedding day. Will my dad cry? I think I’d be heartbroken if he gave me away to the strangers I’ve decided to love without putting up a fight. I imagine that when the background music gets to the otoroch lakwet verse, my mum would hold onto me and wail as the community begs her to let me go. She shouldn’t be ready to give me up to another mum just like that.
That being said, I wish I could wed in all the manners and fashions of all Kenyan communities. I want to feel how Samburu and Maasai newlyweds feel with their gorgeous, bald heads glistening in red ochre. I want to be clothed in beadwork from head to toe as I dance to the sounds of isukuti and bongos. Afterward, I want to plant trees with the love of my life, just like my grandfathers did, as my fathers inspect the goats my in-laws have brought to my stead.
I want to be loved out loud by my groom, my family, my community, and even the people who broke my heart in the past. I want everyone to wear their brightest smile and dancing shoes so that we can all engage in a happy affair and manifest a fulfilling marriage life for me.
I want to see everyone in their creative essence, composing poetry and music, oiling their instruments, polishing my future on canvases, and tying their laces for an epic dance battle. At the end of it all, I want to not only be wedded but also blessed in all the languages humanly possible and acceptable before God for being a child of the community.
Finally, I want to be accompanied to my new home. Not in silence, but in a joyous psyche that casts upon everyone we meet a spell of love and happiness. So wed me; let’s plant the seed of love on every soil our sandals land on.