Anytime she was attending any of her best friends’ wedding, she would beam. Everything about her would change. She would be in a good mood the whole week to the wedding date. The excitement in her life that week to whoever’s wedding, translated into a heart so welcoming, accommodating and sweet towards me too. I loved her so much, anytime she was in that ‘zone’.
In one of those ‘Yay’ days, she called to ask me to drive her to a seamstress at Osu. She was sending her cloth to be sewn – for another wedding. I drove her there, and watching from the entrance of the shop, I couldn’t help but laugh. Her excitement that evening, at the seamstress, made me wonder how she would feel if I also asked her to marry me, so others could sew nice dresses to attend her own wedding for a change.
That was my trigger to propose to her. After driving her home, I returned to the seamstress to discuss a possible ‘marriage proposal’ idea. She was to drop my engagement ring-box, in the beautifully designed poly-bag with the printed inscription,‘Marry Me’ on it.
She wasn’t supposed to say anything to my wife until she figured it all out herself. We agreed on it, and I sent the seamstress the ring and the poly-bag, two hours to her collection time. My wife drove to the seamstress alone to take her dress. I’m told she tried the dress on, and it fit her perfectly. The seamstress then, carefully, placed the ring-box in the folded dress, placed it in the bag, and then handed it over to her.
Again, the seamstress tells me, my wife called her late in the night, asking whether she had mistakenly placed any wedding ring in her poly-bag. She said no, but then informed her that I wanted her to read the inscription printed on the poly-bag. We had been best friends for almost 13 years, and I wasn’t even sure as at that time, whether or not she was seeing anyone. We weren’t dating or sleeping together. We were just great friends. We cared about each other in a way we could best understand.
The rest of the story is history: I mean, the screams, and shouting, and crying… the praise and worship on phone, all this, according to the narration of the seamstress, to me, made me also experience what they both experienced on phone that evening.
I did not hear anything from her that evening. I got her response the following evening through my mother. My mother called me around 10:30 PM, just say,
“Kweku, Akua says YES!”. – From KW