My problem at first was the fact that Andy was living with his mother. I didn’t understand why a man his age and with his kind of job be living with his mother.  I made it clear to him right from the start that I was uncomfortable with the fact that he was living with his mother. “Are you not ready to begin your own life at a place you can call your own? Are you not willing to be your own man?”

His answer made a lot of sense to me so I stopped feeling the way I felt about him living with his mother. He told me, “Since my dad died she has been alone. My sisters got married and they left her alone. They hardly call or come home. I’m all she has but when I marry, she would have no choice but to leave me to live my life. She understands the cycle of life and it wouldn’t be a problem when the time comes.”

He introduced me to his mother as his girlfriend and this woman dolled on me as if I was one of her children. She would call me on Saturdays and ask what I would be doing. When I had the time, I went to places with her and my boyfriend. We would escort her to a funeral and she would introduce us to whoever she met; “This is my son. Do you see how he’s grown? He has a wife now. This is his wife.”

We were not married. At the time we hadn’t even started talking about marriage. Our relationship was a few months old and were still in the knowing-me-knowing-you stage but her interest in our relationship set the ball rolling for us. We loved each other the way people in love loved each other. I went there on the weekends and spend the whole day with them. She loved my cooking so I did different dishes for her. When I had to, I cleaned for her.

Sometimes I spent the whole weekend with them and the beautiful thing was, she would come knock on our door in the morning and tell us breakfast was ready. I wasn’t married yet but this woman gave me a taste of what marriage would be like when it finally happens.

Two years later, we started talking about marriage. His mom was all for it so they came to do the knocking. After the knocking rite, we agreed the marriage would happen six months later.

A week later he came to my place telling me things I didn’t expect to hear at that moment of our lives. Things like, “Why don’t we push the marriage forward? Don’t you think it’s too early for us?” Are you really prepared to be a wife? I’m not talking about the wedding but emotionally, are you prepared to be a wife?”

I told him, “We’ve dated for three years. You know me and you know what I can do and what I cannot do. Why these questions at this moment? Are you having doubts about me or you’re just having cold feet?”

He told me it wasn’t any of that but he was just being concerned.

The days ahead proved that he was the one who wasn’t ready. Anytime I brought up conversations about the wedding he retracted or found something silly to change the topic. He stop buying things for the marriage and stopped talking about it to me.

I asked about it again and he told me, “Mom thinks I’m too young to marry. She says we should exercise patience. We are not there yet so we shouldn’t rush it.”

I asked, “Exercise patience until when? How long should we go before we get ready?”

“We should give ourselves three years more. I would be thirty-five then and ready,” he answered.

I laughed because I thought he was joking. “Three years? When I’m thirty-two years? What are we going to do within these three years? What are we going to see that we haven’t seen yet? Talk to me.”

His answer seemed so definite that nothing I said changed his mind so I took it upon myself to talk to his mom. I believed she was for me and she would speak for me. She told me, “It’s true. He’s young. He’s my son and I know him very well. He’s not ready to marry. Let’s postpone it. I will tell you when he’s ready so use the time ahead of you to also prepare.”

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I don’t know which was worse, hearing it from him or hearing it from his mother. What his mother said gave men the idea that the whole change of mind wasn’t coming from Andrews but from his mother. I confronted him and asked him to tell me the truth. He accepted that it was his mother’s idea but he believes it was the right thing to do that’s why he’s supporting it.

“Three years? That would make it six years of dating. Dear Andrews, what else do you want to know? What haven’t I told you that you want to be told? Who does knocking and wait for three more years?”

I went to bed thinking about the whole thing. I discussed it with my parents and they were equally surprised. Mom said, “Maybe they are changing their minds about you but not telling you the whole truth. Keep probing.”

I’ve gone to the extent of talking to his sisters and asking them what could be wrong. They both don’t know. One told me, “Maybe she’s scared she would lose Andrews to you.”

Her daughters got married when they were twenty-seven and twenty-five. One of the sisters is even younger than my boyfriend but she’s married and living with her husband so what prevents their mother from allowing our grace to shine?

I’ve engaged her once but I don’t intend to do it again before she tags me as desperate. I’m still talking to Andrews. I keep asking him questions. Everything looks different now. The colour of our relationship is fading due to the lingering questions in our midst.

My fear is simply this…what if there’s more to it than what has been discussed? Why the sudden U-turn? Is there another woman behind this call? Should I wait for three years and see what happens? Should I walk out and begin again with someone else?

It Didn’t Work Out Because Of Tribal Reasons | Silent Beads

Beginning again is what I fear. You build everything again from the ground up. Sometimes it collapses. Sometimes it gets crooked so you have to straighten things up. Sometimes it goes on and on without the finish line in sight. Starting all over again is daunting. You don’t even know where to begin from. That’s my fear. That’s the cause of my dilemma—starting all over again.

—Rachel

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