thirty one

The groom's hair and that of the best man got a craft cut from the city corner saloon in Olean some few days to the weeding. He looked handsome, but solemn and that was how he supposed to look. He had his suit, gray in color and one-buttoned to make a good match. His grooming was splendid and of a kind with razor sharp ironing. The tender fingers at the transverse complex by a top stylist handled her queen making it so unique. She had spent four hours doing the hair, glamorous upswept style copied from the latest movie star Brenda and best fashion magazines in the Commonwealth countries. The nice job on the hair gave her a babyish look, just perfect for her husband.

         The church wedding did not drag much longer and they were blessed. It was time for grand reception which came up thereafter. The princely wedding ceremony drew huge attention of well-known persons respectively. Filing through the entrance to the main church building were real men of the heart, big names ; with quality profile and their wives who to them were a good company. The royal and organized movement of top men in attendance, the rolling grandeur of the bodies of worshipers and their chants of welcome song not missing. They filed and poled along with their wives and concubines by their sides forming long procession in their different kind of dresses. And in their seats they waited patiently for the arrival of the other guests to the reception hall. The hall was decorated to meet with the standard of the time, with exotic colors and the cake had the finest torch from Tara the British born caterer who cooked and prepared all the foods and drinks.  The tables also had digestif placed all over.  The wine and most food were served au naturel, uncooked and with nothing added.  At the left stood the wedding cake ready to be broken with the violin prepared for it. Then the music stand and other varieties to feed the eyes with. It was a glittering occasion attended by many well-known public figures, both of Christians and Muslims.

 On the runway, models stepped out in red and black, exotic dresses, longer than most Michele's dress in their campaign days, sophisticated and graceful. It was unusual to have up to hundred guest's at most Spanish weddings, but here the case was different.  They were raw Africans. Their relatives, third cousins and fourth, the in-laws and in-law-in-laws, the nephews and uncles could make a whole thousands before the invited guests. Every African is connected to the other in one way or the other. The hall was thick with many people in attendance. It was very warm and friendly. The superfluity of friends that had come from all walks of life made sure that everything was conducted with a decorum that sometimes was missing from many African weddings. Here it was well over two thousand guests from different walks of life ranging from politicians, businessmen, musicians and professionals. The theme colors were white and gold with fittings to match by all genders. It was a privilege to be invited because the paper invitation brought each one to the venue. The wedding was prepared and done in utmost styles. Outside the replica of their elegant dresses, the models strut the stage in impressive party wears dancing to the amazement of all, coming in different styles, colors, shapes, designs and fabrics. Streams of pleasure flowed through her limbs and heart at the sight of the loving crowd. These young men who had taken over the stage were crowding around and the party grew louder and louder. No Christian. No Muslim. Everything had passed religious stage. Alcohol was ruling and having its effect.