
This is the hilarious observation of a typical Kenyan bridal procession by Facebook user Louis Muiruri.
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There is a special place in hell for whoever invented that thing called a bridal procession.
As if it is not enough to have triggered an epidemic of hypertensive conditions to the groom and the Bishop who have been waiting for you in the church since 9 am until 12 pm, the bride arrives in church with not the remotest signs of hurry or remorse.
She will sit in the hired limo for the next one hour as maids and ushers and the Emcee and transport manager (this is probably the most over-rated title in the whole world) and everyone else runs mad looking for things and stuff.
I can’t understand why she sits there in the back seat like a surprise prize item or a mystery celebrity, like why can’t she go to the toilet or take a small walk and greet some people.
Or at the bare minimum lower the car windows and wave at the villagers who have come all the way. The best lady keeps her company in the car the whole time, it looks like a tense suicide watch or an intense counseling or interrogation session.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are just steaming inside the church because it is already lunchtime and the ceremony has not even started and sugar levels are running on the extreme low.
Luckily, the church ceremony is reserved for old women and men like myself since the brides and grooms age mates are still lying at home unconscious after the previous night’s wild stag party where everyone smoked a joint and dragged home a stripper.
Finally, the hired pianist lets out a tune and we all rise up, twisting our necks backward with lots of expectations. Our moods are dampened by the sight of 24 kids lined up with a matronly lady releasing them 2 at a time (a boy and a girl) in intervals of 30 minutes. You can already tell this will take a whole week. The kids are obviously hungry on top of forgetting all the laboriously rehearsed moves, so midway through the procession, a kid will either walk too fast or too slow or fall down, and the matron will halt the dispatch and run after the kids to correct their awkward movements before trotting back to release the next pair.
After the kids are over now comes the elder bridal party (young male hyenas from the dude’s office and virgin girls from the brides Narumoru parish). The pianist changes tune, and sometimes they even play a bonus bongo flavor. A clean shaven guy in an oversized suit, dark glasses, and new sharp shooter shoes emerge from one corner of the church, a lady from the bride’s village dressed in a highly luminous polyester or nylon dress emerges from the other, and they start a lazy dance towards the isle. As they merge, they lock elbows and spend the rest of the afternoon walking in a slow but slightly confused waltz to the front. This will go on until all the other 30 members of the bridal party are coupled and have danced to the front.
There is an eerie silence as the pianist changes the tune again to a Keith Sweat love ballad. The bride finally shows up, or rather, you see a figure fully covered in white and grabbed from both ends by her parents like someone who has a habit of changing her mind last minute on such occasions and running away very fast. As her parents drag her along, the groom is standing there at the front looking like someone who has just swallowed a noisy insect that is rumbling in his stomach.
They will finally merge at the front just before dusk and the already bored Bishop will shout “Is she this one? Is it her piu piu? Open the net and confirm it is her? Has she been exchanged?” The groom will lift her veil and act surprised and exclaim “She is the one!” to a wild ululation from the women.
Then know that the entire circus has just began.
Source: Nairobi Wire