Nomsa's nuptials (4/5)

By Drum Digital
28 August 2014

My model sister’s elaborate lies finally caught up with her – on her wedding day.

When we tried to park our car, the parking attendant said, “This is not a junkyard for dumping old cars. You’ve come to the wrong place.” Father just ignored him.

The wedding was outdoors so we had no problem getting there with our gifts. Journalists standing at the entrance stared at us as if we were aliens from another planet.

“Are you related to the groom or the bride?” one asked, thrusting a microphone toward my mother’s mouth. Ma loved attention. “We’re with the bride. She’s my daughter and I brought her these chickens as my presents to her. My husband brought the goat.

And this is Nomsa’s younger brother.”

The journalists got excited and started asking us questions and taking our pictures. I wondered if we’d appear on any front pages the next morning.

By the time we managed to convince the guards at the gate that we were Nomsa’s family the cake cutting ceremony was in progress. I led the way, holding the goat.

Mother followed with the chicken cage on her head. Father brought up the rear.

A mischievous journalist had gone ahead and told the master of ceremonies about our arrival.

Just as we arrived the MC spoke into his microphone.

To be continued...

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