I went out one night and came home very late. When I got home, my mum and dad were seated in the hall watching TV.
It was so unlike them to watch TV till that late. From the look on their faces when I entered, I knew something was wrong. I greeted and went straight into my room.
A few minutes later, my mum entered, followed by my dad. My mum asked my dad, “Should I go first or you will go first?” My dad said, “You’re the woman. Go first.”
My mum asked me, “Where are you coming from this late in the night?” I said, “I went out with some colleagues to celebrate another colleague’s birthday.”
My Dad screamed, “Liar!” My mum said, “Kojo, allow me to finish.” I said, “But mum, I called you this afternoon to tell you that I will be late?” She said, “Yes you said it but I didn’t think it would be this late and I didn’t think you were going out with your boyfriend.” I said, “No it wasn’t my boyfriend.
“It was a birthday I attended with some colleagues.” My Dad again screamed from behind, “Liar!” My mum said, “Kojo don’t come in yet. Let me finish with her first.”
I didn’t know what was going on. I felt ambushed. It was the first time the two of them were doing that to me so I got worried.
My mum continued, “Do you have a boyfriend?” I said, “No I don’t have a boyfriend.” Dad: “Liar!” Mum: “Kojo, I told you to let me finish with her before you come in.”
Mum asked me again, “Do you have a boyfriend, “I was quiet for a while, thinking whether or not to tell them the truth.” Dad said, “Lie again, we are waiting.”
I started laughing and they both started laughing too. I asked, “What is the matter? What have I done wrong and why all these questions?” My dad wanted to talk.
My mum screamed, “I haven’t finished with her.” My dad went quiet. My mum said, “You’re not a child—28 is not a small age.
“You started working when you were only 24. You’ve done well. This is not the age to be chasing men around. This is the time you walk to us and introduce your boyfriend to us.
“You don’t go out under the pretext of a birthday and sleep with a guy and come here this time and pretend you’re holy. We’ve been like you before so we know all the tricks.”
I said, “Mum, it’s a birthday party I went to. I didn’t go to sleep with anyone.” My dad cut in, “You did, you even bathed after everything.
“This is not the dress you took to work this morning. Where did you go to change it?” I chuckled. My mum said, “Whoever is sleeping with you, it’s time to bring the person home so we know he’s serious with you.
“If he can’t man up to meet me and your father, then he has no good intentions. Leave him and bring someone who’s man enough to meet your parents.”
She turned to my dad and said, “Your turn…”
Dad took over from there. He said, “You’re the first child and the rest are looking up to you. The way you live your life would be replicated by them. Don’t give them a reason to live carelessly. Who is Afrifa to you?” I was quiet.
He asked again, “That boy who plays the organ in church, who is he to you?” My mum screamed from behind, “Answer him.” My dad said, “Please, when you were talking I didn’t talk, allow me.” Mum retorted, “You did the same when I was talking.”
Dad continued, “I know what’s going on between you two. If he’s the one, bring him home, or else, the next time I see the two of you together in the church, I’ll misbehave.”
They were telling the truth that night. It wasn’t a birthday party I attended. I went out with Afrifa to celebrate the second anniversary of our relationship.
But looking at the way they had their facts spot on, I figured it was my junior sister who had been giving them the information. I stopped talking to her.
The next day I told Afrifa what happened. We both laughed. He said: “They’re saying the truth. I will come home to meet them officially.”
So, the next Sunday after church, the two of us went home to meet my parents. That day was another drama I’m not ready to go into.
After doing the introduction, my dad asked, “How long have you been together?” Afrifa said, “Two years.”
My dad turned to my mum and said, “Sweetheart, did you hear that? He’s been ‘chopping’ our daughter’ for the last two years.” My mum said, “No they are Christians. They won’t do that.”
Then she turned to me and asked, “You are a virgin, right?” I shook my head. My mum said, “Gentleman, bring the drinks tomorrow, we’ll be waiting.”
After that introduction, they turned their attention to Afrifa. My mum will call him in the early mornings and asked him when he’s coming home to marry me.
My dad was worse. He’ll call him on Saturdays and remind him that Saturdays are for weddings so why is he wasting the Saturdays.
One Sunday after church, my dad sat In Afrifa’s car and followed him to his house. He said my dad went around the house inspecting everything.
After everything, he told him, “So what are you waiting for? When I married my wife, I was living in my parent’s house. See your house.” Everything shows you’re ready.”
The good thing was, Afrifa never took it the wrong way. He rahter made jokes out of it and laughed. I was worried. I got angry often but he told me, “They are right.
“No parents would like to see their daughter’s life wasted by another man. Allow them. I love your dad. When I grow up, I will be like him.
“One day after church, I saw my dad standing there talking to Afrifa. They were both laughing. I felt at ease. After their chat, I asked Afrifa, “What did he say?”
He answered, “Your dad is quite a funny man. He said someone from abroad is coming to marry you. The person is even ready to take you abroad after marriage so he’s entertaining the person’s offer.
After telling me that, he looked at my face and said, “See how your heart is beating faster. Abi you’re scared? Don’t mind me I’m lying.” That was when we both burst out laughing.”
The day Afrifa and his family came to do the ‘knocking,’ my dad said to his Dad, “If I give you a list based on how long your son has shaken the waist of my daughter, you guys would pay millions but I love Afrifa.
“He’s my son. He’s the only one who makes me dance in church when he plays the keyboard so I’ll make the list short and cheap.”
We’ve been married for three years. When we had our first child and we were thinking about what to call him, Afrifa said, “This one will bear the name of your father. My one and only in-law.”
Since we got married, I hardly hear from my dad. If I don’t call him, he’ll never call. I miss him every day but he won’t visit.
You ask him to visit and he’ll tell you, “I don’t have time. I’m looking after your sisters.”
