Wo kunu wo he?

I realized today that I have not put up the original post that was the source of my blog's name. A thousand apologies ( mind-your-language style). Okay, so this is the story behind my blog's name. I set up my blog in OCTOBER 2009. However, my first post is dated May this year. I thought blogging was something difficult and was venting out my creativity on facebook (notes).

My friends kept suggesting I start a blog and I gave it some serious thought and decided to give it a try after carefully weighing my options. I wanted my first post to be this article. 'Wo kunu wo he?' It means 'Where is your husband' in Twi (a Ghanaian Language). So I typed this title in the Blog title column thinking blog meant post. I wasn't able to upload it then though. After coaching from a few blogger friends, I was able to set up my first post - 'Throwing out the baby with the dishwater - Literally' and I decided to let the name stay until I found a better one. Today, I present to you - original 'Wo kunu wo he?' Here goes...

WO KUNU WO HE?

You know you’ve gotten to that stage when your mum starts asking in every convo you have with her, “So, is there someone new and exciting in your life that I need to know about?” and she sighs disappointedly when you say no. That’s about as subtle as a politician showing up at a grand durbar in his hometown weeks before the elections. She might as well say: Sweetheart, you aren’t getting any younger; your biological clock is ticking; I want to see my grandchildren before I die; or any one of those tired old clichés – you know the ones I’m talking about.

If you haven’t figured out which stage I’m talking about, it’s the stage where you KNOW you have to start taking this love, dating and marriage thing seriously. It never ceases to amaze me how parents, mothers especially, make that sudden transformation from “Concentrate on your books!” to “You know, I went to my friend’s daughter’s wedding over the weekend. Wait a minute, you should know her. Wasn’t Nyameke your junior in high school emphasis on the word (JUNIOR)? Her mom was so happy. One would think it was her wedding” Then it’s there in the pause. Unspoken but so loud you can’t miss it – “I want to be that happy soon”

You’re in even more trouble when she starts going for naming ceremonies. That was the cause of the lecture I was getting that afternoon during a visit to my mom’s. “Anowa, did I already mention going for Nyameke’s outdooring of her baby last week? (Yes mom, this would be about the twentieth time) She continues “Akos, my schoolmate who I’m way older than, was such a proud grandmother it brought tears to my eyes “(sniff!). The she turns and asks me how work is as if she had never said anything.

Aaargh mom, I wish you could hear yourself! Wasn’t it just a few years ago that you were drumming into my head the essence of concentrating on getting me educated and building a career? Wasn’t it just yesterday you encouraged me to break it off with Kojo, my level 100 sweetheart because we were way too young? What happened to you?

You said to finish school, make it big and the guys would come trooping to my door. Why are you panicking all of a sudden because I’m turning thirty next week? The way you’re going on. One would think I was turning fifty. Jeez mom, would you give me a break already?

As I sat in my car to go back to my apartment, I paused, took a deep breath and turned on the radio. Hoping some soothing music could calm me down. No such luck. As if in conspiracy with my mom, my favourite radio station was playing ‘wo kunu wo he?’ right at that time. And the first words I heard were those of the chorus “Aw aw aw aw aw – Wo kunuwo he? Obaa besia, wo’enimonyam wo he?”

I said and blushed almost immediately in shame at the four letter word I’d uncharacteristically just used. But it made me think. I am 29 years old, with a BA. Econs from the University of Ghana, a Masters in Economics from the University of Oslo in Norway and a Chartered Financial Analyst. I am a senior partner at an audit firm, drive the latest edition Lexus and have an apartment in Trasaaco Valley. I send my mom every month, more than she could spend in a lifetime and have bought her a house in East Legon. What more could a mother want or hope for?

I’m pretty, 5’ 7”, weigh 65 kilos and am very well proportioned. I have never lacked suitors (although quite frankly I must admit my picking has been getting thinner over the years) but I’ve always preferred staying single to getting married.

No, I am not a lesbian and No, I do not go home to vibrators and dildos every night. No, I do not cry myself to sleep every night and I do not have a gigolo to ‘take care of me’ regularly. I don’t hate men. I just think my life is fulfilled enough without them. I have never really had children or wanted to have some of my own. I guess I must be a bit like Robin in ‘How I met your mother’. I enjoy buying gifts for my nieces and nephews but I’ glad I’m not the one who has to take them home at night.

Why is it so hard for everyone to believe I am single, saturated and satisfied? Or that I’m turning thirty with no fiancé or husband in sight and looking forward to my party?

Just then, a hottie in a 2008 Nissan Murano drove up beside me and shot me an electric smile that sent tingles down my spine. Ok, so I lied. I’m not a sexless career woman who neither needs nor wants a man and children. I’d like to go home to something like that at night – legitimately, that is. Plus, if my husband is really convincing, I guess I could have a baby or two – (no more!) but why does society have to measure my success on marriage and call my husband my glory? Am I not glorified in myself?

Just then I heard Mister Hottie-playing-gospel-in-the-Murano scream excitedly into the phone “Mom, I think I’ve just met the woman I’m going to marry!” With that, he got out of the car, brought me his phone and said; “Here, my mom wants to talk to my future wife” I nearly fainted! As I took the phone with trembling fingers, I took one shot at his presumptuousness and said – “I could be married, you know?” “Nope! Already checked. There is no ring on your ring finger and you don’t strike me as someone who wouldn’t wear her ring. At least I hope you’ll wear mine forever.

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I know right? Sounds too good to be true. I thought I was daydreaming too – until the lights turned green and the cars behind started honking at us... and then I knew that this was my very own fairytale.

And that is how I met the groom. Cheers!

As I watched my family and friends drink to my happiness. A tear run down my cheek and before it reached my chin, Kay kissed it off and gave me a squeeze, mouthing the word – I love you. I smiled and sighed dreamily. My mom nodded approvingly. I guess mothers know best and perhaps society is right. I know for sure that no business deal had ever brought me this much joy.

Now, it’s been very nice chatting with you all. But if you don’t mind, I have a wedding night to prepare for... and a husband to make very VERY happy. ;) ;) ;)