Slow Day at the Nuptial Market
A former neighbor called on Isoken. Former Neighbor: A man I know needs a wife. Isoken: Did he actually say “I need a wife?” Former Neighbor: (nodded) Are you interested?
Education is a priority. Secondary school, a requirement. Any form of higher education, a happy plus. As long as the woman dresses herself neatly, is open to switching to his own church, and doesn’t mind the sacrifices (and joys) that comes with being the wife of an anointed Man of God. No age preference. The younger the better, of course. All ethnicities okay. It is a Cherubim and Seraphim church, so must be okay with wearing white bulbous tunics accessorized with the appropriate color of sashes. Must be able to stand incense for long hours and walk barefooted from home to church and back. Shopping, cooking, cleaning are expected, so are singing, dancing, and the playing of the tambourine and, perhaps, the shekere. Penny-pinching a very welcome attribute.
Disvirgined. Devirginated. Unvirgined. Not a deal-breaker. Mary, the one called Magdalene, had seven demons extracted from her body. She did things, some with other people’s husbands. But she was blessed. She even had the honor of spicing up the Lord’s corpse. No, it is not at all a deal breaker. There is no blemish that a good doze of alum and green water cannot wash away. Courtship interviews would be at Tower Ministries located on Third Cemetery Rd. Sundays are good. Church service begins at 9am and lasts until the stars come out. But Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday are also okay. The life of a prophet is a busy one.
Isoken said she’ll think about it, and when she did, the only thing that struck her as odd and unseemly was the use of the verb, “need.” How do you need a wife? You dreamed of a wife. You wished, prayed, longed for a wife. You even went out in search for a wife. But you don’t go about needing a wife. Isoken did not think she was making too fine and slightly absurd a distinction between needing and dreaming. Clearly, it didn’t occur to her that dreams are, after all, merely needs for which we have yet to find a name.
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