Sneaking at a wedding ceremony in pretext of “Mrs”.. Was I a gatecrasher?

A wedding ceremony is as important as ever and it has to be beautifully handled and with a touch of excellence. The bride, bridegroom, in-laws and the invited guests always look forward for the day to be as graceful as a wedding day can be. Invitations are always sent in advance and in some of these invitations the host can be very articulate and thorough.  A guest list of a targeted figure is endorsed purposefully to meet their budget and those who attend should be formally invited, and submit your card at the time of request. In cases like this gatecrashers are prohibited. The general concept of African weddings based on African culture everybody should be allowed to attend the wedding ceremony regardless whether you are formally or informally invited. The host would make sure there is surplus food and space to accommodate the uninvited ones. It would be considered as rude if the host do not welcome the gatecrashers. Many of these gatecrashers are decent people who come to witness the wedding and the joy it gives just to be present. They always come in harmony and leave in harmony and it’s very rare to hear stories of commotion brought by the gatecrashers. Majority of gatecrashers always offer some gifts in form of money especially after you fed them well. It’s always been a blessing in disguise in many cases.

However, lifestyle and economic hard situations force most people to be very decisive and to be economically in as much as possible hence eliminating other people from attending their weddings. I found myself in a similar situation on a wedding I attended in Liverpool over the weekend. How did I happen to be there? Who invited me? These are questions hang on in your mind as a reader. As a narrator of this story I shall narrate to you the event that led me to be at the wedding.

It all happened two months ago I met a friend from Zimbabwe at Asda, Hazel Grove, in Stockport. We became fast friends and exchanged numbers. It was to our own interest that we are few Zimbabweans or people from black community within the area. In the following days and weeks we phoned each other and talked for a length of time over the phone. My new friend who has introduced herself as Dee, invited me to her son’s birthday on the last minute dot com, and I wished she had informed me earlier I would have made a lovely birthday cake for her son. Despite her last minute call I managed to be there and it was my first visit to her house since we met.

It was on this day, when one of Dee’s relative from Liverpool came to celebrate the day for her son. The visitor from Liverpool was happy to see me. We all learnt that we went to the same boarding high school in Zimbabwe. He was a senior by far and he was in the same class with some of my few relatives and I also happened to be the same class with his young charismatic brother. It brought fresh memories and we talked of our school, our former teachers, friends and relatives and almost every subject of that we could think of. It was from there that the visitor from Liverpool invited me for the last weekend’s wedding and  he asked his family to come with me to the wedding. His name Neil (not his real name)

On Saturday morning, Dee and her family came and picked me up for the wedding. We drove and in three quarters of an hour we had arrived our destination. Neil welcomed us in his house and five minutes later we vacated his house for wedding matrimony. He was in charge as he drove us to the reception venue. On arrival we all ushered into church building. We waited for the bride for a while and she arrived in style by the limousine. Inside, we all ululated as all people gave the passageway for the bride and her father. Her father elegantly handed over her to her handsomely Cameroonian bridegroom. The priest in charge blessed their wedding and after they made their wedding vows and the priest announced them as a man and wife. The church was fully packed with all people of different walks of life who applauded and congratulated the two newly weds. After the church ceremony they dashed out for the photos.

My new friends and I headed back at Neil’s house and after half an hour we went to the ceremony venue a different place from the church. The venue was at the centre of Liverpool town. We saw people trickling in but at the gate, standing, as securities were the elegantly dressed females from two nations, Zimbabwe and Cameron. They stood there purposely and asking people to show up their invitation cards and that their names were concurring with names written in their guest book.

Finally it was my turn, Dee, her husband and children had passed their test easily for they had their own invitation card in their names. “Hi,” one of the female securities greeted me with a broad smile revealing white milky teeth. “Hi”, I greeted her back and slipped an invitation card not in my name in her hands. She flipped it and inside she saw the card was addressed to Mr Neil and she started to check on her guest book to look for Mrs Neil and unfortunately as I expected there was no name addressed as Mrs Neil but only Mr Neil. She asked me the most question I dreaded. “Are you Mrs Neil?” I took a deep breath wondering whether I should say yes or no. I eventually said yes and refused to look into her eyes afraid  that she may discover the truth written in my eyes.  “Could you stand aside and  while we ask someone in authority to verify this invitation?” she asked. “It ‘s a aright and Mr Neil will be here shortly to verify of this invitation”, I said as I bit my lips with my upper teeth. We had left Neil for parking the car as we made our way to the venue. He had said he would catch up with us soon and he had given me his invitation card thinking it will be easy for me to get through, he didn’t mind for himself for he thought he would find a loop hole to get inside the venue.

The moment I stepped aside inside the building, the guys who were responsible for tying reception belts came for me straight and sealed a belt on my left arm without questioning me whether I was officially allowed in. I only smiled and thanked as I saw the belt slipped through and hanging elegantly on my palm. I noticed that the belt had the bride and the bridegroom’s names which were written beautifully.

Whilst I was standing, the man in authority came and he asked whether it was me who was in a problem. I explained to him and he knew his friend had invited me. As he was about to say something to me, Neil arrived and  he was surprised to see me still standing at the main entrance and probably he half expected it. Immediately I went to the security lady and told him that he was Mr Neil. The woman was laughing as Neil explained that the hoist forget to put my name forward. She realised we were friends and the security lady told Neil to say:  “Please Mahobho”, allow me in or else your “Mrs” would not get in.  Mahobho is a slang name commonly used in Zimbabwe for the bouncers. If someone is not officially allowed in or to exit before the time people would lament for the security guy, saying, please, please Mahobho as they asked for favours. In the end Neil ended up saying, please Mahobho, to please the security lady. We all laughed and giggled but I was happy as I was reunited with Neil inside the building. We met up with Dee and her family who were waiting anxiously inside and we explained to them what had happened. They laughed at the episode but mostly they were happy that it was successful and we were together. The wedding ceremony went pretty well and there was surplus food for every body. It lasted till four in the morning. On departing the bridegroom came and gave me a bottle of Champagne.  My friends and I thanked him. We left with the spirit of triumphant. On reflecting on this story do you think or see me as a gatecrasher? Pour out your thoughts on my blog.



Fifty Shades of Grey, Fifty Shades Darker, Fifty Shades Freed !!!

Cover of "Kindle Wireless Reading Device,...


It’s  an exciting atmosphere when people talk of new things that excites them in their lives. I  have been treading upon that pathway for almost two weeks and listened carefully as people chatted. Some exciting new things have been said over and over as I mingled with different crowds in different places. I wondered what makes this book distinguishable from other books. It seems it has rekindled the desires of many to read again and perhaps for some they might read it on a Kindle? For the last two weeks I have been so much excited because I was treading within the familiar territory and it is a territory I like most and addicted to and almost every Jack and Jill was talking about it. It is a territory of books. I love reading; I can describe myself as a bookworm. I love reading and time is limited. If I have ample time I would dedicate my time in reading and writing I have voluptuous appetite for both activities. If I had enough money on my plate I would dedicate my time into reading and writing but only heavens will know when I shall strike that special opportunity and fulfil the desires of my heart.

The last couple of weeks have been wonderful days and nights of my life when everyone was talking about books and reading. The people I met have conversed animatedly about the subject as if they were talking of the Fast Movies of their lifetime. “Did you hear of this book…? Its neurotic…Actually I recommend you to buy….3 books  at the prize of ten….. Just visit Asda or Tesco. I love Mr Grey… no, no, I love the chocolate thing…” Everybody laughs.

Whilst I was listening I was approached several times on different occasions and recommended to buy not the book but the books because it comes in a trilogy.  Surprisingly all the people or sources of my information I heard and talked about were all white ladies. “So what is the title of books?” I asked with a very soft inquisitive voice, cursing myself for not being the earliest updated with the latest books. The first one is called Fifty shades of grey, the second one is Fifty shades of darker and the third is Fifty shades of Freed. “Who is the author of the books? I probed like a detective, but with an impassive voice. I was impressed with the author who had successful written one story in three books. “El James,” someone chorused back, “she is a woman”, someone added the information. “ She must be a prolific writer,” I said as I moved on to the next question and I wondered whether I have become freelance journalist for a day. “So what makes this book appealing?” I asked, but as I looked I saw all the ladies who were gathering around me gazing at each other, and flashes of smiles passing between of them, as if they were gauging who should answer me first.  One blond lady had quickly decided to respond to my question and I smiled and nodded signalling that I was ready to hear her. “It makes women dominate in the bedroom,” she said with a rhapsody tone. “Who ooh who ooh,” I whistled, and for the first time I was lost of the words. Women around me were laughing.

“So if you hear me of speaking about the “Chocolate thing”, you got to understand me. Right?” said the blond lady as she directed her words to me. “I am practically in love with Mr Grey. I can’t wait going home and read the book,” she continued and spoke with an over emphasized tone, and I wondered whether I would have the opportunity to grab the book from the shops since my time at work restricts me.  I thanked the ladies for being informative and they encouraged for the second time that I should buy the books.

It was yesterday on Saturday afternoon and when I popped in Asda, Hazel Grove. I went straight to the bookshelf and found a set of the grey trilogy books neatly packed above all books. I grabbed all three of them and somehow like the all the conversations I have been going through for couple of weeks, the books caught the attention of every customer in Asda shop. One tanned white man who was in front of me queuing to pay his items started the conversation.

“This is the most interesting book and almost everyone is reading it,” he said, as he looked at me with the most infectious smile I ever seen. “Have you read the book yourself? I found myself starring at him as I scratched my nose yearning for the first time to hear it from an opposite sex talking about this book in my last two weeks. “No. I didn’t,” he said, “its a woman’s book,” he added as he looked handsomely in my eyes. I was fluttered. Perhaps he looked like Mr Grey whom I have been told over and over, I speculated it in my own thoughts. “ I can predict that from now to nine months time many new born babies would be born,” he said as he revealed his white teeth with a big smile, his eyes scanning every woman in the shop.“ I can guarantee that three quarters of the babies would be from mixed race, mostly from “chocolate people” I said, and there was explosion of laughter. “All of sudden there was a buzz from all white ladies who were in the shop and everybody telling me that they have read the book or they’re in the middle of finishing the first one or they just finished the last one. It was another heat wave of an exciting atmosphere from these lovely spirited ladies. The man left and started talking animatedly with the ladies. I bade farewell and all the ladies wished me the best in my reading.

I went home and started reading the first book I was easily lured into the story and I found Ana Steel falling for the young, rich, and handsome black guy, Mr Christian Grey, for the first time she met him. I finished the first book and I know the reason these women I met were thoroughly crazy about this book. Its simply explicit and erotic.  I am not mad about the book but I have thoroughly enjoyed reading it and now I can understand why it ‘s  on high demand. The writer EL James she is thorough and articulate.  I had to say it had drawn a  lot of attention when  I was reading this book on the bus or in the staffroom. I thoroughly enjoyed the random discussions that popped up whilst I was reading it. One  lady it told was a  Holy Crap and another other old lady told me that she was annoyed with one lady whom she met on the holiday who finished up the story for her when she  had only few pages left to read. Some of my colleagues at work asked me what  I thought about the book and it was pure explicit and if you love erotic dramas you will find them. At one stage I was asked to read some  of the few lines and  I did as per their request. As I read loudly for them, they laughed and they were surprised with the kind of language the writer used. I am on the second book.