So, ever since I've graduated from college, the question (and the endless prayers) about marriage has always come up from well-meaning relatives. The scene below is a funny take on what it might, could, would, or probably will be like for my parents to finally meet "the one". But, as you'll soon read, a girl can't just bring any "one" home!
Disclaimer: Some words are common Yoruba expressions of shock and awe; others are intentional misspellings to give the reader a feel of the unique pronunciations. Enjoy, and remember...it's just a dream!
(A Yoruba man meets a Yoruba woman’s parents:)
Mom: She fe rice, she fe eba, she fe sprite, she fe pounded yam, she
fe moin moin, she fe kola nut, she fe, she fe, she fe... (looking for something else to offer) she fe wedding ring?
fe moin moin, she fe kola nut, she fe, she fe, she fe... (looking for something else to offer) she fe wedding ring?
Man 1: (laughs) I'm alright ma, thank you ma, I'm very full, Ma.
Mom: Okaaaaaay.
(As soon as he leaves:)
Mom: He comes from a very good home!
(As soon as he leaves:)
Mom: He comes from a very good home!
Dad: Very respectful boy.
Mom: When is he bringing the dowry?
(A White man meets a Yoruba woman’s parents:)
Mom: Would you like some tea and biscuits?
Dad: I love golf!
(As soon as he leaves:)
Dad: You know Dr.Odufela's son is visiting town next week.
Mom: The two of you should talk.
Dad: I love golf!
(As soon as he leaves:)
Dad: You know Dr.Odufela's son is visiting town next week.
Mom: The two of you should talk.
(An African-American man meets a Yoruba woman’s parents:)
Mom: How you doin' honey? You doin’ okay?
(Dad gives the "you won't be around for long" look. Every time the man tries to show off his knowledge of anything African, the parents give each other a look and point with their mouths.)
(As soon as he leaves:)
Mom: Heeeee yepa. You cannot marry that one.
Dad: He's a riff raff.
Mom: It can neva wok.
Dad: You see, you have to take into account something called coltcho. Dis boy does not have any coltcho.
Mom: Please, I beg, if you do not want to see me die, do not bring dis
boy into my house again. (Dad tries to calm Mom down in Yoruba, somewhat reprimanding her. Then to the Yoruba woman:) You are of age now. You know how to make decisions for yourself. But I would advise you to seriously consider the repercussions of marrying dis man. Whateva you decide we will support you. BUT... for the sake of
your family it would be better for you to marry a Yoruba man. Even if
he's Igbo. That's not too bad because they are useful people. Corrupt,
yes. But very, very useful. Just make sure you keep a close eye on
your assets. Because with Igbo people you never know, one day they
agree, the next day dea mind is somewhere else. (HUGE PAUSE)
Anyway dat is anoda issue...
Mom: heeeeee (prays rapidly to God in Yoruba.) My daughter wants to kill me. Tokunbo, I carried you in this stomach for tateen good months...
Mom: Tokunbo?
Mom: How you doin' honey? You doin’ okay?
(Dad gives the "you won't be around for long" look. Every time the man tries to show off his knowledge of anything African, the parents give each other a look and point with their mouths.)
(As soon as he leaves:)
Mom: Heeeee yepa. You cannot marry that one.
Dad: He's a riff raff.
Mom: It can neva wok.
Dad: You see, you have to take into account something called coltcho. Dis boy does not have any coltcho.
Mom: Please, I beg, if you do not want to see me die, do not bring dis
boy into my house again. (Dad tries to calm Mom down in Yoruba, somewhat reprimanding her. Then to the Yoruba woman:) You are of age now. You know how to make decisions for yourself. But I would advise you to seriously consider the repercussions of marrying dis man. Whateva you decide we will support you. BUT... for the sake of
your family it would be better for you to marry a Yoruba man. Even if
he's Igbo. That's not too bad because they are useful people. Corrupt,
yes. But very, very useful. Just make sure you keep a close eye on
your assets. Because with Igbo people you never know, one day they
agree, the next day dea mind is somewhere else. (HUGE PAUSE)
Anyway dat is anoda issue...
Mom: heeeeee (prays rapidly to God in Yoruba.) My daughter wants to kill me. Tokunbo, I carried you in this stomach for tateen good months...
Mom: Tokunbo?
Yoruba woman: Yes Mommy.
Mom: Tokunbo?
Yoruba woman: Yes Mommy.
Mom: Tokunbo?
Yoruba woman: Yes Mommy.
Mom: (breaks down in tears) You have killed meeeeeeeeeeee.
Dad: You see what you did to your moda? Enh?
Mom: Tokunbo?
Yoruba woman: Yes Mommy.
Mom: Tokunbo?
Yoruba woman: Yes Mommy.
Mom: (breaks down in tears) You have killed meeeeeeeeeeee.
Dad: You see what you did to your moda? Enh?
Chorus of Experienced African dancers enter:
First Chorister: Heyee. (Hiss.) So you’ve decided to bring a white man? What happened to the Yoruba one? The acata one I can understand. All acatas are naturally attracted to acatas. And you are an acata. But an oyibo? A white man? My daughter. You have a lot of guts. Me, I don’t understand this generation, oh. Anyway…at least…you did not let him impregnate you and you introduced him to your mother and father before you went and married him. That is a sign of respect. That shows you have good home training. But all these oyibos and acatas…(hiss.) Anyway my dear…you have tried.
Second Chorister: My dear, you have tried. But…try to find a good Yoruba man. One from a good home. Try, enh?
The Chorus exits.
Person Prays:
“Dear God, is it wrong to marry a white man? Is there some forbidden law I should know about? I honestly believed we were part of the same species. And when I brought over Tariq, I thought my Dad would be impressed by his Arabic name and his knowledge of Islam. But, it seems he looked straight past that and heard his Black American accent. Funny thing is Tariq is from the same neighborhood my parents bought a house in. I mean, they live in the SAME neighborhood! You’d think they’d have tons of common things to talk about. I mean...they’re all BLACK!!! Laide is alright. Lord, I know YOU love him. He’s perfectly prim and proper for you. Says all the right things. Humble as a dove, but…he seems more interested in winning over my parents than he is of winning me. Why? What for? I don’t know. I keep thinking somewhere beneath that guise of perfection there’s another side I might not want to meet. Especially after we jump the broom.”
