Who will marry Bernete?, by Anurika Onyelemelam

Dear Aunt,
I’m an ardent reader of your column. This isn’t the first time of dropping a line but no reply. Please, hold out a helping hand. I’m 40. I’m desirous of marrying a pious, simple, smart, funny and feminine woman. But I don’t know how to go about it. I ‘m not into any relationship. One problem with me is that I don’t know how to communicate. My two younger brothers have been shacking up with women, having three children between them and providing grandchildren. But they’re yet to do their marriage rites. I’m the reserved type. My parents are estranged. I don’t want a similar circumstance to befall me. It appears time is running against me. Please advise me.

My dear Bernete said I should lend a helping hand. I don’t know the type of helping hand you want from me sir.
But the best I can do is what I’m doing right now. I’m sure there are several women, from good homes, who are ripe for plucking into the marital basket. Why not into your own basket?
The trouble however is how to find such a woman. There are a lot of women in town, but just like men, many of them are good enough for an affair, not marriage.
Many people seem to think that churches are the best places to find a good wife/husband, but I don’t think so.
Ha! There was a lady that got married in her church and within weeks, her husband, an acclaimed born again by everyone, started using her as punching bag.
It was shocking to say the least; we later heard that the guy was actually a Muslim, but started attending the church because he saw the lady on a particular day and fell in love…pardon me…yes, fell in lust with her.
In fact, he actually wooed the lady, but she turned him down. Said she wouldn’t marry any man except a born-gain who attends her church.
It took several months for the guy to convince the babe and the pastor that he was a genuine born-again.
It was only after the tying of the nuptial knot that the guy showed that he was a tiger, in zebra clothing.
A few days after the wedding….don’t know the sort of wedding…Our naïve, gullible sister saw her born-again husband smoking! Of all things! She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.
But sure enough, there was the pack of cigarette and lighter…and his mouth was oozing smoke like chimney…there was even an ash tray!
When she came out of her shock, she tried to question him…guess what she got for her pains?…a resounding slap on her face that had her seeing Angel Gabriel and Michael fanning her with a national newspaper to revive her!
As if that shock was not enough, our brother brought a much used little kettle out one day…brought out a Koran…brought out that bead…sorry, don’t know what they call it….hold on, wait a minute…my niece, Esther just told me it’s called tesbiu.
Said he was going to mosque to pray! Told the stunned sister that he was actually a diehard Muslim who only pretended to be a Christian to nail her.
Yeah, sad…he had sampled, tasted her abuna…so what else has she got to offer or make shakara with?
The secret buried in the closet crawled out. Our brother is the classical Hyde and Jekyll character.
What I’m driving at, is that it happened right in a church, where any sane person would stupidly go to seek for a good, God-fearing wife or husband.
Most churches are sham these days, so are the members. Even most of the ladies there, are those who had seen the deep and shallow end of life, with respect to affairs, bedmatics.
Not all, mind you!…don’t get me wrong, but it’s true nonetheless…many of these babes played the fields like mad, then when age is beginning to race against them, telling on them, they look for a church to start attending, turning or pretending to turn a new leaf, just to get a husband.
May God help us!
If you see them in their born-again headgears, neck covering clothes, faces bare of make-up, with their Mona Lisa smiles, you wouldn’t know they were once Da bomb in bed…capable of making a man renounce his mama!
Back to Bernete, maybe you can try churches, but just be careful.
But wait a minute, where do you work…what do you do? You didn’t give me an awful lot of things about yourself to work with.
Because I believe that whenever you’re working, there must a babe somewhere, dying for just a glance from you.
You may not know it. Some men are simply blind at reading such ‘come and get me’ signs. We call it the green light.
While some guys seem to read too much meaning into a simple smile from a babe…believe me, I should know. Those are men who are full of themselves…thinking they’re god’s gift to women…the Lotharios of our days…I can’t stand them, can you?
Bernete, when you described yourself as being reserved, I got worried. What with your parents’ separation, I can’t help feeling that psychologically you’re bottling up a lot of things inside.
What is it you’re not telling me?…How many relationships have you tried that failed?…or have you not tried any at all?…does that mean you’re a virgin?
Some kids grow up, blaming themselves for their parents’ divorce or separation. It affects them psychologically, and usually haunts their future relationships, making them to have the phobia to commit.
They begin to suffer from what yours sincerely, prefers to call commitment phobia!
There’re a lot of men, women suffering from commitment phobia.
So, Bernete what really is the problem? Are you perchance suffering from commitment phobia?
I don’t need to be clairvoyant to know that you don’t want to walk down the path your parents did…who wants that anyway…nobody I bet!
It’s a sad and painful thing when a love affair dies, let alone when a marriage ends.
Let’s talk about your age and marriage. You seem worried about it.
Get real Bernete! You’re a guy…this world; life is a man’s own. You can do anything and get away with it.
Men are blessed in every way, down to their biological clock…hell! Do they even have anything like a biological clock?
Bull, don’t think so! Lucky sons of Adam!
Look at it this way…they can play the field until they’re about to use a walking stick and would still marry an 18-year-old baby, if they put their minds to it…and don’t think that age affects their loins…no way…just give them a few months, you hear the player has scored and a baby has arrived.
Check out Fatai Rolling Dollar the musician. He was 84 when he got married to a 25 year old babe…today they have a baby!
Yes…yes…I know…I totally I agree…the only minus for baba arugbo, might be his performances in bed!…yeah, not too many old guys have the stamina to sustain a turgid manhood for long, let alone to have the power to penetrate deep into the woman, the way most babes desire.
Many old guys want to pour, gasp and roll to the other side of the bed…sometimes a babe even begins to worry that the old fool, who seems hell bent on showing that his manhood was still as strong as Olumo rock, might collapse and die on her.
If that happens…Ha! Police will have a field day…journalists will go haywire…and the babe in question will begin to write, “I was…” statement, upon statements at police station…not a pleasant affair, I tell you.
And this not being able to perform in bed, like their younger counterparts, drives many of them stupidly to start ingesting substances like Buratashie! Viagra!
I heard Buratashie is deadly…it makes a guy’s rod to become so turgid, that if time is not taken, it could break into two, if someone hits it!
I don’t think Buratashie is good.
If a guy takes it…you must bang or God help you!
I heard a guy took it, expecting his babe to visit…she came, but no show because she was menstruating…the guy almost cried his eyes out…he tried to smile, but you could see that it was only his lip that was playing at smiling…his eyes remained sad..Confused.
The babe left, but the turgid manhood refused to heed the command of its owner to down! You, know, like you use to order a frenzied dog to ‘down.’
Scared, he called his committee of friends. They tried cold water…no way….tried putting rag soaked in cold water on it…no way…placed ice cubes on it…but the head of the penis stubbornly refused to bow…imagine the arrogance of that sugar stick!
Even after countless massages, he couldn’t come.
I heard that at a point, the guy began to experience pains. Had to be rushed to hospital O!
Just two weeks ago…at Alaba rago area of Lagos State…an Hausa man, ingested the same Buratashie…and pounced on a prostitute he had hired for the night…he banged her until she died…even after that, he refused to allow the corpse to rest….why? Because his manhood still stood stubborn.
The time paid for the room expired…one of the hotel attendants went to check on them…the Hausa guy was not in the room…he was in the bathroom…but the attendant didn’t know…he shook the girl countless times, but she didn’t wake…wasn’t breathing…alarmed, he ran out and called police.
When police arrived, they found the Hausa guy, on the corpse, banging his life away! Can you beat that?
He was dragged off the corpse…he later told police that he knew the girl was dead, but couldn’t stop banging her because he had not come since the event started. He even had the effrontery to insist that he had not received his money worth from the corpse.
Sick son of a bitch!
So back to Bernete…my dear, it’s better to marry late in life, than marry early and rush out of the marriage because you’re miserable and unhappy.
When you think of marriage…think about being happy and making your spouse happy…don’t worry about age.
I wish you’d penciled down your phone number…I’m sure some of our good sisters out there…serious ones anyway…searching for their tenth ribs, just as you’re…would’ve given you a call.
The calls would’ve given you an avalanche of opportunities to meet and study a potential wife material.
But above all things…pray to God for guidance in making a choice. Marriage is all about luck.
That it didn’t work out for your parents’ doesn’t mean it won’t work out for you…that it’s working out for some of your friends, doesn’t mean it will work out for you.
But don’t go into marriage with a pessimistic spirit. It might be your doom.
Whatever happens, whatever you may have heard, the truth is that, you and your spouse will need to work on your marriage to make it work.
I drop my pen.