It was during my traditional marriage that I saw the true colors of people, especially those I called my relatives.

When my husband and I started making plans for our traditional marriage, one of the first things we needed to do was travel to the village and collect the marriage list so we would know exactly what we were expected to provide.

That journey opened my eyes in a way I never imagined.

Suddenly, uncles I had not seen in years appeared from nowhere. Aunties who barely checked on me suddenly became very interested in my marriage. Everybody had an opinion. Everybody had a demand.

“Buy this.”

“Buy that.”

“Add this one.”

“Don’t forget this.”

The list kept growing and growing until I looked at it and almost laughed in disbelief.

I kept asking myself, Do these people not know the state of the economy? Do they not know how hard people work to make money these days?

When I expressed my concerns, one of my uncles immediately replied, “Marriage is for people who have made money. If a man is coming to marry, he should be ready.”

The funny thing was that the same man saying this had not even completed the bride price of the woman he had been living with for years. I wanted to answer him, but I decided to keep quiet because sometimes silence speaks louder than arguments.

I simply collected the list and told them respectfully,

“We will do what we can afford. At the end of the day, nobody will help us build our home. We will do our best and move on.”

That statement did not sit well with some of them.

One elder stood up angrily and declared that we must buy everything on the list or pay cash for it. According to him, it was unacceptable for people to gather for a traditional marriage and not eat to their satisfaction.

I listened, collected the list, and returned to the city.

When my husband and I sat down, we carefully went through everything. My husband was doing well for himself, but that did not mean we should throw away our future just to impress people for one day.

Thankfully, my father stood firmly by our side.

He reminded us that a wedding ceremony lasts only a day, but marriage lasts a lifetime.

He advised us to do what we could comfortably afford and focus on building a stable future together instead of trying to satisfy people whose demands would never end.

I agreed completely.

A few weeks later, when my father recovered from his illness, he traveled to the village to formally inform the elders that his daughter was getting married and to present some of the items we had already purchased.

The moment he arrived, the same discussions started again.

Some elders tried convincing him that since I was his only daughter, he should collect plenty money from my husband. They insisted that my husband was doing well and should spend more.

My father looked at them and asked,

“Is it because my in-law is doing well that you want to extort him? If he wasn’t doing well, would you be saying this?”

Then he added something that stayed with me forever.

He said, “If they decided to do a simple parlour wedding, would all these demands exist? The answer is no. Let these young people do what they can afford and build their family.”

That was when the same elder who had confronted me before stood up again.

He started complaining that people who live in the city always think they know better than those in the village. He said city people should not come and tell village elders how things should be done.

My father sat quietly and allowed him to finish talking.

Then he looked at him and calmly said,

“When you go and properly pay the bride price of your own wife, then I will answer you. Until then, you have no business teaching anyone about marriage.”

The meeting became silent immediately.

It was as if someone poured cold water on his head.

The man could not say another word.

The others who were preparing to support him suddenly became very quiet too.

That day, I thanked God for giving me a father who was alive, present, and willing to stand up for his child. Because honestly, I don’t know what those people would have done if my father had not been there to defend us.

By God’s grace, our traditional marriage was successful.

We bought what we could afford, invited the guests we could cater for, served everyone well, and the event ended peacefully.

Afterward, we proceeded with our court wedding and white wedding without unnecessary pressure.

Most importantly, because we refused to spend recklessly trying to impress people, we invested the remaining money into something meaningful. That decision later brought us even greater financial rewards.

Looking back today, I remain grateful to my father for teaching me one lesson I will never forget:

A successful marriage is not built on how much you spend during the wedding; it is built on the wisdom you apply after the celebration is over.

People will always have opinions. Some will pressure you to spend beyond your means just to satisfy traditions, expectations, or appearances. But once the music stops and the guests go home, you are the one who will live with the consequences.

Marriage should never be an avenue to extort people or push families into debt. Everybody knows how difficult life is and how challenging the economy has become. Love, understanding, peace, and financial wisdom will take a couple much farther than unnecessary showmanship ever will.

So do what you can afford. Build within your means. Invest in your future. Because if you spend your life trying to impress people, you may end up suffering just to maintain an image that nobody will remember tomorrow.

Moral Lesson 1: A wedding lasts for a day, but marriage lasts for a lifetime. Never sacrifice your future just to impress people temporarily.

Moral Lesson 2: Not everyone who calls themselves family wants the best for you. Learn to listen to wise counsel, stand your ground, and make decisions that protect your peace and your future.