58: Stubborn Ram

She got as far as the gate before someone apprehended her. A large male hand clamped around her wrist and pulled her towards the tent. She tried to plant her feet in the grass but her sole dug up soil as she was tugged towards the tent. People spilled out of the tents like milk out of a broken jug.

"Let me go," Romola screamed.

The man who held her stopped in front of the tent, just as Yetunde stepped out.

Yetunde pointed the bouquet at Romola's face. "You--"

Romola stood tall, her eyes gauging the guests around them. The people had formed a circle, sealing her in. Stopping her from running out of the compound or into the church. There was no backing out now. In all the times she'd rehearsed her imaginary battle with Yetunde, none of the scenarios had been as public or dangerous as this, but this was her time. And she wasn't backing down.

"Yes me."

Yetunde's lips twisted in a grimace. "No shame at all. You still had the guts to show up at this wedding?"

"And so what? It's not your wedding."

Murmurs began to rise around them. A few people raised their phones. Romola caught flicks and flashes of light around her.

"Gosh, you're so rude. You just destroyed someone's wedding cake and all you can say is and so what?" Yetunde bent over and dragged the bouquet on the ground in a curved line. "Today, I'll teach you a lesson you won't be quick to forget."

The hand that handcuffed her wrist slid to her arm as the man pulled her forward.

"Don't touch me."

"Don't touch you? Don't touch you, right?" Yetunde screeched, running across the grass with the bouquet raised as a cane.

The first lash of the bouquet against Romola's cheeks was hot. She tried to raise her hand to protect her face but she found that her captor held her wrists in place. Yetunde's bouquet cane came down in quick succession over Romola's head and around her face, hitting left and right as a whip and lash. Something caught Romola's face. Something sharp, tearing at the surface of her skin and drawing blood.

"You useless good-for-nothing blundering fool. One naira prostitute. I should've killed you when I had the chance." Yetunde yelled.

The strikes of the bouquet against her skin increased in tempo and intensity, but decreased in bluntness as the fragile flowers on the stalks abandoned the bouquet. The sharp stalks themselves were more merciful than Yetunde's hand on Romola's skin.

Romola struggled to free her hands from her captor. If it were a fair match, Yetunde's head would have found the ground by now and it would be her hand against Yetunde's skin. There were a couple of white teeth that she failed to knock out that day when she returned to the apartment to get her belongings.

"Useless." Yetunde cast the skeleton of the bouquet away, her chest rising and falling with each syllable. "Man-snatcher."

Romola raised her head. It hurt, throbbing in several places as she tried to raise her hands but the man who held her pulled her forward like her hand was a tight rope and she was a stubborn ram that refused to be slaughtered. The man tugged at her hand again and she shot out her leg, aiming for the back of his knees. Her dress curbed the arc of her leg, so she kicked his ankle.

"Ah." He stumbled forward.

Romola swung her hand out without thinking, in a wide arc that ended on Yetunde's temple. The blow hurt her hand more than intended but Yetunde's scream pacified her a little. She stood, a small smile growing on her face as the back of her palm rubbed her left cheek bone. She turned to face Yetunde who stood, crying. Yetunde's tears sounded more like the groans of a constipated patient.

"What is it, sef? All of this for a stupid cake? I'll pay for the damage."

"How?" Yetunde stared her down. "Will you sell your body to buy a cake?"

"Oh shut up, Yetunde. You're no better than I am."

A short dark woman with pronounced hips and a bandage around her left arm marched towards them, throwing her unbandaged arm in the air. "You... you.. you.. What are you doing here? You have come back to shame this family again? Don't you know when it is time to stop?"

Romola eyed the woman like she was a little insect that she could squash under her feet. She wrinkled her nose at the woman. She had not drawn the first blood but she was not afraid of drawing more. She placed one of her legs behind and keeping her arms akimbo. Gone was the girl who was timid and shy and hiding. In her place was a woman with furious eyes. She shook her shoulder, a simple sign of odeshi.

"Who be this one?" She eyed the woman again, this time sure she had seen those wicked eyes somewhere. "Better commot yourself from here before I break your other hand."

Gasps and murmurs rose from the crowd and the voices around her grew in an angry frenzy, like the unceasing buzz of a mosquito.

"Ehn? What did you just say?" Yetunde asked.

"I said what I said." Romola eyed her.

The woman drew closer to them. Romola stomped her left foot in the woman's direction and the woman stepped back.

She smiled, just as Yetunde caught her elbow and pulled her back. "You are not even ashamed of yourself?

Romola hissed. "What's there to be ashamed of?"

She'd suffered nothing but shame since Olumide's house warming party. What was it to her if a few more people saw her madness? It couldn't be worse than the pictures.

"You've lost your mind."

Yetunde rose her hand but Romola smacked her wrist away.

"Stop it. Both of you." A slim woman stood by both of them.

"This is not your business." Yetunde turned to Miss Oyama.

"Oh, yes it is." Miss Oyama shook her head. "As long as it concerns Romola, it is my business."

Yetunde turned to her, not with anger but with a look that demanded answers. The look she used to give back when they were on campus and someone they didn't know approached them. Romola was good with faces but Yetunde with places. It was Romola's job to remember faces.

"Who is she?" Yetunde asked, when her look didn't provide any answers.

"I'm Romola's boss. We're sorry about the cake and I'll make sure the bride is properly refunded but--"

Yetunde high pitched laughter overshadowed Miss Oyama's words. "Your boss? Oh my goodness. I didn't know you now did women."

That was it.

Romola lunged at Yetunde's neck. Victoria appeared between them and held Romola back.

Dami held Yetunde by her waist and pulled her away while she kicked and screamed. "Leave me Dami. Leave me, let me teach her a lesson."

Romola sighed, shoulder falling as Dami carried his screaming sister further away from the crowd into the tent.

"I'm sorry." Romola whispered to Victoria.

"No. It wasn't your fault. I'll deal with Yetunde."

Miss Oyama stepped in. "Let me have an account number to refund you for the cake and I can get a friend to have something similar delivered pronto."

"I'm really sorry about this. All of this and Olumide..." Romola continued.

"He's a big idiot."

Romola shrugged. What was she expecting? The only difference between Olumide and Yetunde was that Yetunde at least had the balls to face her head on.

"We need to go now." Miss Oyama said.

Romola raised her head and squared her shoulder. She wouldn't leave this wedding like a loser. "Thank you for the invite. I wish this had played out in another way."

The walk back to the car was silent. Miss Oyama's footstep was twice Romola's. She slammed the driver's door and forced the belt across her chest as Romola settled into the chair.

Miss Oyama's head snapped in her direction, her eyes wide. "What was all that?"

"I don't know." Romola shrugged.

Miss Oyama clicked her tongue. "If you do not want me to leave you on the sidewalk, you better start talking. Who was that woman and why did she accuse you of trying to steal her man? Do you know the man who proposed?"

"No. Yes. Maybe."

Miss Oyama's finger's spread out. "Which"

Romola sighed. The truth would come out anyways. It was better she it first.