Baby, so the Abuja Big Boy you are dating (and whose post-dated cheques signed by a certain unnamed minister who travelled and will return to Abuja next week, or the upper week, or the upper week ad infinitum; you have been financing) suddenly pops the question:
“Baby, will you marry me?”
Sister, before you start rejoicing and sending out invitations and planning aso-ebi and seating arrangements with your girlfriends, please ask him this very important question – “where and how are we going to get married?”
If his answer looks or sounds anything like, “You know I am a big boy and I live a very private life. I would like us to have a low key affair, just you and I and a few friends at the AMAC Marriage Registry”, my sister please slide your feet out of your shoes. Bend down, pick those shoes and run for your dear life.
That boy ain’t smiling.
Designed, produced and practiced in the city of Abuja where all is not always what it seems.
You see, what most people do not know is that most of the marriages performed at the AMAC marriage registry are strictly for convenience and can be neutralised as easily as they are contracted, at the click of a button.
An Abuja Big Boy who intends to solidify his relationship with you at the AMAC marriage registry is just being clever by half. Perhaps you read our article (click here) and are now proving stubborn. Perhaps money is no longer flowing the way it is and he needs you to be a little more generous and what better way than to dangle the “marriage” carrot? And no, those parents of his he told you were too sick to travel long distances and so would be unable to attend your blissful union, are not that sick, they can travel if they want to. They probably never heard of you or even if they did, were assured you were just a business partner.
So, you drag yourselves off to the registry and sign the dotted lines and bro now has access to full rights as the oga of the household.
That is when you see someone whose only value addition to the sham marriage is his third leg, suddenly start demanding “respect” and “submission”. When translated loosely into Nigerian English, those two terms simply mean “collect your pay package and hand it over to me”.
All that “humbility” he was displaying all through your courtship and prior to your marriage suddenly vanishes into thin air.
When you give him your pay check, he deducts half of it and sends to his WIFE, (yes you heard that right), in the village. The other half he divides into two and applies one part towards keeping some small small girls happy (and yes, these are the same girls he assured you that their pointed breasts could never measure up to your flabby pancakes. The same girls he kept telling you had nothing to offer other than their size zero waists and contoured faces); and the balance of the money, he saves towards the rainy day because he knows that it is about to rain cats and dogs!
When he no longer waits on you hand and foot, starts keeping late nights and keeps goading you into anger, you react and go to the same AMAC registry where the sitting magistrate will gladly dissolve the marriage; then you will sit down, take inventory and realise that you have been THE MUGU from day one.
Your head was shaved in your absence!
But the men are not the only ones who use the AMAC registry to conduct marriages of convenience; the Abuja Big Girls (click here for description) are not left out too.
When the Abuja Big Girl’s hustle has come to a full stop and she needs to start forming “responsible married woman”, she pulls out all the stops to lure a naïve young man with “ambitions and prospects” into her web.
She changes his wardrobe so he can appear good enough to tag along to parties and events; buys him a car to enable him live up to his new found status, encourages him to come to her house anytime he likes and sleep over if he so wishes. She even goes through the ceremony of presenting him with his own set of keys to her house.
Every day, while the jobless muchacha who cannot imagine how Christmas came too early in the year lazes around at home doing nothing or at best, running small errands outside the house in madam’s posh car, madam will make time in her busy work schedule to return home and come and make lunch for her boo.
She will ensure she prepares and serves his breakfast herself, ditto dinner. She drops “small” money running into tens of thousands for recharge card and other small inconveniences he might run into over the course of his day spent creating absolutely no value whatsoever and at night, madam transforms into a German Zogging Machine.
There is no position she cannot contort herself into and no trick that is too mean for her to pull. Every morning, this poor young man wakes up and offers up thanksgiving to the gods for making his hustle in Abuja yield result in such a blissful manner.
Then after a month of living this way and after a night of zogging him brainless, she snuggles up to him and goes; “Baby, everybody now knows you and I as an item, I am preparing for my vacation next month and would like to take you along with me. Please can we go to the registry, just so we can have a marriage certificate that will help me process a visa for you to travel abroad with me”.
After that statement, she can recite the entire Bible backwards, the poor young man is stuck at the word “visa”.
Him? The Gala seller of just two months back? Will be on his way “to the abroading”? Just by marrying this woman who has already done so much for him that the only way he can think of repaying is by selling one of his two balls?
Na so! Without much ado, both will drag themselves off to AMAC marriage registry and almost immediately, a brand new world will open up for the young man.
One in which visa, he no go see. “Abroading”, na by mouth? Come home and cook lunch for who? You want her to lose her job? Bro is lucky if he so much as sees a slice of bread to dunk in his morning cup of weak lipton. Aunty will even find an excuse one day to retrieve the car she gave him. The nannies will notice the change in atmosphere and start sniggering behind oga’s back and very soon, madam will start taunting him
“Can’t you go and find something to do? You just lie down on that bed from morning till night doing nothing and you call yourself a man. Do you think it is your prick that makes you a man? See him! O ji amu, ojiro ego!”
Na so. Abuja marriages can best be described in one sentence: Mugu fall, guy man go chop!
PS: I hear the association of Abuja residents have issued a “leave township” order for me. Apparently, market no dey sell very well for Abuja Big Boys and Girls again so, in the interest of my own safety and continued residence in Abuja, I rest this series here. From next week, we go find another matter talk.
Happy Independence y’all, God bless Nigeria!