Diary of an Honest Naturalista: Week 107

Okay, I have never mentioned me going to Dimeji’s house, rather I only mention his coming to my house. This is because I had never actually been to his house. It was a conscious decision I made. I try as much as possible to avoid family pressure on relationships until it is absolutely necessary to do so.  This is largely because I have a friend whose relationship was completely exposed to the influence of family members on both sides, right from the beginning of the relationship. While my friend is very strong-willed, the same couldn’t be said for the guy. After two years, his family had succeeded in scattering the relationship, in the name of “she’s not God’s will for you.” This left my friend devastated for such a long time, and I told myself I was not going to be a victim of such family influence.

Dimeji and I have gone through so many ups and downs, such that I am now convinced we belong together, and will be able to weather storms together in future. Ours, as might be deduced by now, is an intertribal relationship. I am Edo, and he is Yoruba. We all know how such things can go in Nigeria.

Anyway, I hinted Dimeji few weeks ago that I was finally ready to casually meet his family members whenever he liked.

When he asked us to go and meet them this weekend, I was quite fidgety and panicking on the inside. Even though they all know Dimeji had been a relationship with me for quite a while, I wasn’t really sure about how they will accept me.

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I put my hair in a very neat updo, and wore a bodicon dress that was well below the knees. No use pissing my future in-laws off with an unruly afro or frizz flying over everywhere. Dimeji is from a family of 4 boys, so I didn’t think I will have any problem from the sibling area, knowing guys are not known to make so much fuss about things.

When we got to his house, we met his parents, and one of his brothers. He introduced me to them as his girlfriend, and they didn’t seem surprised to meet me. After about half an hour of surface conversation, I eventually landed in the kitchen with Dimeji’s mum. I have enough Yoruba friends, and have lived long enough in Lagos to know that Yorubas take this sort of things serious. I must say that the tribal factor didn't seem to be an issue for his parents. Anyway, she didn’t allow me to cook or help her. She said there would be enough time for that in future – sounds like good news already.

At a time, I looked at Dimeji’s mum’s hair, to see if we would bond over hair talk, even we don’t have much more to talk about. It was a no-no. She was on very low cut, and didn’t look like someone interested in growing her hair or talking about it – no open doors there.

I eventually left his house, feeling a bit accepted into his family, but not overwhelmed with an “oh my God, we finally have a daughter” countenance. It was a healthy balance for me. I would say the visit was a success. I am glad it is finally over and done with.

Maybe Dimeji will propose someday soon, hmm. I don’t know. Let’s just keep our fingers crossed. One thing I know though, we are not parting ways anytime in the near future.

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