The first night, how does it look like?

Ami’s Pov

“Aunt Monica, what does the first night after marriage look like?”

“Why beat around the bush, Ami? Just go straight to the point! Or did you call me here to do your hair or to give you tips about your first night after the wedding?” She tickled me on my ribs, and I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. My chuckles, however, caught my mom’s attention.

I had deliberately taken Monica outside, away from the bustling three-room apartment we called home. The brick walls, still unplastered, were packed with relatives who had swarmed in for my upcoming wedding, now only two days away. Monica and I were sitting under the shade of the old mango tree on the left side of our spacious compound. Nearby, unerected canopies lay scattered on the right side. Everything around me seemed tied to the wedding; the giant cooking pots, the stack of fireworks, heaps of uncooked food filling one of the rooms, and the endless stream of visiting family members. All of it reminded me of what lay ahead. Yes, my day. That’s what everyone called it.

“Ami is about to become a real woman,” I overheard someone say earlier.

Those words stirred a mixture of excitement and fear in my chest. Even though my dad had passed years ago, my mum had taken on the role of both parents, raising five children, three girls and two boys with unmatched resilience. She would often tell me:

“Whatever step you take, your siblings will follow. Never let a man touch you. The end result before marriage always leaves the woman in pain and humiliation.”

Her voice, though firm, seemed to carry a quiet tremor. Whenever she said those words, I dared not meet her fiery gaze. Sometimes, I couldn’t help but think that the pain of losing my dad had seeped into every syllable she spoke, turning her into twice the disciplinarian she’d been when he was alive.

But it wasn’t just her words that instilled fear in me. I had seen it firsthand, young girls with one or two children, their bride prices unpaid, and in many cases, likely never to be paid.

Just as I felt ready to respond to my aunt, my mom appeared behind us. She must have been drawn by the sound of my laughter.

“What’s making you two laugh?” she asked, her tone carrying an undercurrent of pride she would never express outright.

“Don’t mind your daughter…” Monica began, turning to my mum with a teasing smile. Her body language invited my mom into the conversation, and my heart instantly raced. I panicked, imagining Monica repeating my question.

In my head, I could already hear my mom’s sharp response:

“So, you’ve been dying to spend a night with a man, haven’t you? You just didn’t have the chance before now.”

I pictured her stern face, the piercing stare, and the loud hiss she would let out before walking away. Regret surged through me. Why had I even asked Monica? I should have kept my curiosity to myself, after all, I would find out soon enough. It was too late now.

My mom had been suspicious all morning, watching me closely as if she were waiting for a slip-up. When someone else offered to style my hair earlier, I insisted on Monica instead. Even when she tried to help take out my old braids, I had refused. I wanted Monica.

And now, my mom’s narrowed gaze felt like she had pieced it all together, ready to make an accusation. I felt a tightening of my stomach. She had the evidence she needed, and I knew I was about to face the last consequences before becoming someone’s wife.

“Esther, Ami and I were just discussing the type of hairstyle she should go with. Nothing serious.”

“I thought…”

“Calm down, Esther,” Monica interrupted my mom gently. “It’s just one more day until the wedding. I understand the anxiety, you want everything to be perfect. But Ami is already beautiful, and any hairstyle will only compliment that. You’ve done the hardest part in keeping her chaste. Not every family can manage that, but you did it all on your own. Wherever your husband is, I'm sure he's proud of you. We all are. Raising a daughter as beautiful as Ami isn’t easy.” Monica touched my cheek affectionately. “Now, go and rest. At this point, you shouldn’t be doing any work. We’re all here to help you.”

“How can I rest?” my mum protested, shrugging her shoulders.

“I said, go. If you can’t lie down, at least sit inside the house,” Monica insisted firmly.

I silently thanked my aunt for persuading my mum to leave. Her presence always seemed to weigh on me, keeping my imagination in check. Monica hugged her and patted her back gently until she finally walked away. Once my mum was out of sight, Monica leaned in and, as if reading my mind, said, “Ami, have you ever wondered why the bride and groom aren’t allowed to see each other a few days before the wedding?”

“Hmmm… I heard it’s to avoid bad luck and for their safety. Why?” I asked, tilting my head curiously as she worked on my hair.

“Story! Story!!” she teased, grinning.

“No, no! I don’t want a long story, Aunty. Just get to the point,” I begged, my tone and expression pleading with her. I knew Monica well. She had a knack for turning a simple question into a long-winded tale.

“Alright, let me hit the nail on the head,” she said with a smile. “As far as I’m concerned, the real reason they’re kept apart is because of what you’re feeling right now. Especially for a girl who’s kept her virginity. It’s an honor…”

“Aunty, just tell me why they don’t see each other,” I interrupted her playfully.

“I see how it is. You’ll definitely have twins from your first pregnancy,” she teased.

I laughed. “That brings me back to my original question: what does the first night really look like?”

She exhaled deeply, a knowing smile on her face. “Ami, there’s no need to sugarcoat things for you. In just a few days, you’ll find out for yourself. You’ll become a full woman.”

“Is it true that women feel pain on the first night? What causes it?” I blurted out, cutting her off.

Monica leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Alright, let me ask you something. It’s just the two of us here, and I trust you won’t lie to me. I’m ready to answer all your questions. Has Efosa ever touched you?”

“Touched?” I exclaimed, startled. “No!” I answered quickly, almost jumping out of my chair.

“Relax, young lady,” she said with a smile, clearly amused. “I mean, has he ever touched your…” She gestured toward her breasts, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

“No, Aunty,” I said firmly..

“What about your hips?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, Aunty, I wouldn’t lie to you,” I said, pausing as I kept my eyes focused.

“Are you thinking about it?” she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.

“No… but he… he almost did it one day,” I admitted hesitantly.

“Go on,” she urged.

“I didn’t mean we slept together,” I said quickly, trying to make her understand. “He tried to touch me, but I refused. My mum would kill me if she found out. She always says just one touch can make me pregnant. But I know she’s lying. I only obeyed her because I was scared.”

“Your mum isn’t lying,” Aunty Monica said resolutely.

“How can just a touch get me pregnant? That doesn’t even make sense!” I slightly raised my voice, confused that my aunt was agreeing with my mum.

“It depends on where you let him touch you,” she explained. “One touch can lead to more, and before you know it, you’re carried away by passion. You’ll forget everything your mum warned you about. In just a few minutes, it could all be over. You did well not to let Efosa touch you. After the wedding, your entire body will belong to him.”

“You haven’t answered my question, Aunty Monica. What will my first night with Efosa be like? What should I do? What should I avoid? What should I expect?”

“What should you expect? You already know deep down what to expect, Ami. I understand the answer you’re searching for, but this question doesn’t have just one answer. Every woman’s first night is different. My experience may not be the same as yours. I want you to have your own special experience.”

“Why?”

“Because having your own experience will make it memorable,” she replied with a warm smile. “But one thing is certain, you will feel shy the next morning once you set your eyes on him.”

“Shy? Why?

Monica was about to talk when a joyful shout interrupted us.

“Uncle Solomon has arrived!” one of my nieces yelled excitedly.

I wasn’t going to let her have all the fun. I needed to welcome him too. After all, Uncle Solomon was here as my father’s representative for the payment of my bride price. Just like children run to greet their mother when she comes back from the market, I joined the others to welcome him.

Uncle Solomon had traveled a long way to the village, and I was the reason for his visit. If I wasn’t mistaken, the last time he came here was years ago, when my father passed away. This visit was unavoidable. His small travel bag hung on his right shoulder, and he carried a large loaf of bread in his other hand.

“Take this bread to Mum,” He said to my younger brother and then I greeted him. In return, he nodded and said to me.

“Ami, I need to see you and your mum now,” emphasizing his words with a gesture. I paused. Couldn’t he see Monica was still working on my hair? As I was about to return to my aunt, Uncle Solomon called again.

“Ami, I said I want to see you and your mum now,” he repeated, walking toward the house. He quickly waved at Monica with a friendly smile.

What was going on? Was this about my bride price? Had he found out I was still chaste?

Whatever it was, my thoughts drifted to Efosa. The man I loved with all my heart. I couldn’t stop imagining what my first night with him would be like.

“Ami!” he called, his voice snapping me out of my thoughts. He stood at the door, impatience in his tone. “Don’t keep me waiting,” Solomon said. Solomon hadn’t even settled down, yet all he wanted was to lecture me about behaving well in my husband’s house. But my conversation with Monica was far more exciting.

“Why would I be shy, Aunty?” I asked the moment I went back to Monica.

“Go and meet your uncle and then come back. You’ve started imagining things in your head,” she teased, gently nudging me toward the entrance door.

"When you come back, I will tell you the main reason why you will be shy..."

"Really?" I asked with a smile.