My Mumu Button Has An Expiry Date

My name is Beauty.

And I have never been the apple of any man’s eyes.

Maybe except for Adam.

The first time I met Adam, he said my parents only gave me that name because they felt pity for me. I didn’t know what that meant but I knew I had been called worse.

Adam was a co-founder of a struggling start-up and club manager of 855, a club that opened its doors at 8:55pm for people with curfew.

When I first showed my friends his picture, they asked if I was depressed and had low self-esteem. I told them he was sexy but they thought I meant eczema.

If anything, as he always reminded me, I should be grateful such a “potential” Elon Musk and Obi Cubana like him had eyes for me.

He often said his type was a woman that could sing and was skinny and beautiful like Ayra Starr with a sprinkle of big booty like Tems. The kind of woman that every man was proud to show off to his friends. But I was the kind of girl that always had to book two seats on the bus and was kicked out of my secondary school’s choir audition the moment I hit the first note.

But I didn’t care, because Adam was the first man... of my heart.

And oh, he was a feminist. He believed in women’s empowerment. In fact, he said women should be breadwinners. That I should be the breadwinner of our future family. After all, his mama was a breadwinner too.

Jackpot has entered my kitchen. At least I was not going to marry a man that wanted to dim my light.

But I was going to marry a man that sucked my pockets more than my breasts.

“Imade,” he called me one warm Saturday afternoon. He always called me by tribal name because he believed Beauty didn’t fit me.

We were standing inside a Swarovski jewellery store in Jabi Lake Mall when he called my name as the shop attendant passed him their newest diamond ring from the glass display in front of us.

“Yes, daddy.” I responded hastily, standing close to him, my heart ready to burst. It’s about to happen. He is about to propose!

“I have warned you to stop calling me daddy. It makes me feel old.” Says the man that was 7 years older than me.

“Sorry da—I mean, Adam.”

I could barely concentrate as he turned to me with the ring at the tip of his fingers. He lifted the oval-shaped diamond ring before me, the exact same ring DK proposed to Normani! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I could feel myself shaking in excitement.

All my life, I had fantasized about being proposed to in grand style with those giant heart-shaped rose petals that had “Will You Marry Me?” sign while my friends and family were screaming “Say yes! Say yes!” and I would be crying like one Christmas goat.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

I was getting proposed to and that was all that mattered. Adam had found me worthy. Ya girl was finally getting the ring! I’m about to be off the marke—

He dropped the ring back on the table and let out a deep sigh.

My heart dropped. Daddy?

“I would have proposed to you now,” he said, staring at the ring hopelessly. “but I’ve spent all my last savings on the business.”

I felt my world crashing down. Before I could respond, Adam reached for my shoulder and looked at me.

“But if you pay for it, you will be my fiancée.”

My mouth flew open. Enh?

I shut my mouth immediately and gathered myself. He had warned me to stop letting my face disrespect him in public. Especially now that I could feel the shop attendant’s wide eyes burning through him.

Adam picked up the ring and reached for my hand. He slid the shining, light-binding, eyes-blinding ring onto my ring finger, the size so perfect against my thick fingers, like it was made for me. I looked up at him, lost for words.

“Imade, this could be the beginning of our forever. Look, if you pay for this ring now, we can get married before the end of this year like you always wanted. I will pay you back all the money when the business booms. I swear. No one will have to know that you paid for this ring, they will be too distracted by their celebrations when you’re flashing it around.”

I was too stunned to speak. But all I could think about was how I was going to show it off to my non-existing Instagram haters and amebo aunties who told me that no man would marry me because of my weight. Here was a man, the first of my firsts, pleading with me to marry him. I had won, hadn’t I? Paying for a ring should be the least of my worries, after all, my 500k Easter allowance from Chevron just dropped two days ago.

So all that was left for me to say was,

“Pass me the POS.”

***

“We have a wedding to plan!!!” Lolade and Shalewa screamed at the top of their lungs when I Facetimed that night.

I barely did the talking, the ring did. They gassed me like never before. But they gassed Adam more.

“Your daddy get eyes o. I knew he will come correct! Fine man, fine ring.” They celebrated. The same girls that said he looked like eczema.

There was just something about proposals and weddings that made men more attractive than they had always been. These are the same men you would not bat an eye for on a normal day, but when he became a groom, he magically became that savoury forbidden fruit they told you not to eat. Lolade and Shalewa praised Adam like he was the one who came to die for my sins. Just being proposed to gave him an overnight admiration and respect like never before.

After the call ended, my heart sank like my body did on my bed.

He did not earn that praise. I did. I was the one that paid for the ring.

But even the walls did not have eyes to see it.

***

It was one thing for Adam to bill me, it was another thing for him to bring his entire animal kingdom into my bank.

From his mother and sisters’ asoebi, to his wedding suit, to his groomsmen’s suits, to paying for his lost and found brother’s flight from Canada because “he cannot miss his only brother’s wedding”, to paying for the hall, to renting our apartment, to paying salary to his backend developer who threatened to hack into all their clients’ emails if he did not get his salary, to renting our matrimonial apartment, to furnishing the apartment... all the bills fell on my laps.

Adam’s excuse? He would pay me back when the business booms.

I could not even tell my family that I had taken a loan of 50 million naira from the bank for this wedding. And every money that entered my account went directly to Adam’s account. Adam could not take loan because he was already owing the bank for his start-up.

And guess who got the praise for all of the wedding preparations?

Adam.

But a part of me was proud. To keep his head high like the man he was.

In fact, every receipt, every document had to be in his name. That was the only way to protect his pride and dignity.

It was a sacrifice I had to make for our future family. The other day on TikTok, I saw a video of a wife saying she was graced to iron her husband’s side chicks’ clothes. I had that same grace. But for Adam’s financial burdens. It was my calling. I was to be the provider. It was why God brought us together, his financial weakness was my strength.

All of this was the true test of my loyalty. And I must not fail.

Who knows, all this could be a test from Adam himself. To see if I was a real wife material like his mother. And when all this was said and done, I would wake up to another ring and surprise proposal like Jux did for that Priscy girl, and a whooping sum of 100 million naira would magically appear into my account on our wedding day. Oh, how I will dance on that day, Poco Lee will be shaking on the dancefloor.

The one time I was flat ass broke, like my ass, and I asked Adam for money for data, he called me insensitive. He said that I did not care that he was fighting for his life financially.

He was so angry with me that he threatened to call off our engagement. But I knelt on my knees and begged him for forgiveness. The ring was my pride. My self-worth. The only piece of me to show off to family and friends that I was worthy of being a man’s attention— even if it meant paying my way for a place in his life. Taking the ring away from me was like taking my lifeline.

And for being so “insensitive”, my punishment that month was to submit my entire next salary to him.

And like the submissive obedient bride I was, I did.