Hi babiesss!!!
My apologies for going AWOL!
It’s been a really crazy weekend.
A lot has been happening that exhausted me.
Thank you for your prayers and messages. Granny is fine now and I’m also doing great.
Thank youuuu.
Setto had both hands relaxed on the steering wheel of the G-Wagon, navigating the bumps with that easy, unbothered stance he always had when he was behind the wheel.
He looked clean in his white linen senator suit, the fabric crisp and sharp against the dark leather seat.
Tammy sat right beside him, looking effortless in a purple adire shift dress, wearing a wavy wig.
She had her phone on speaker, and the unfiltered voices of Valerie and Purity was currently filling the entire car.
“Are you sure that you guys will meet up with the lunch meeting?,” Purity asked through the phone,
“Because the way traffic is building up around Anthony Bus Stop, you people might just reach Ikeja by midnight.”
Tammy sighed, leaning closer to the dashboard.
“Omo ehh. I pray we can beat the traffic. We are around toll gate now.”
“Ah, pele oo!” Valerie’s voice chimed in, much warmer but still teasing.
“We are happy you guys are taking this step, honestly. Seeing Pastor Ade today is a very big deal. We are praying for you guys.”
“Thank you, Valerie,” Setto said, his deep bass voice rumbling as he smiled, eyes still on the road.
“We really appreciate the backing. We need all the prayers we can get.”
“Don’t worry, you have it,” Purity countered.
“Tammy, call us immediately you people finish with Pee. Val and I are already planning a hangout with the both of you”
“We will definitely call,” Tammy smiled, her heart warming as she looked at Setto’s calm profile.
“Love you guys, bye.”
She cut the call and sank deeper into the seat, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
The city was chaotic outside, but inside the car, everything felt peaceful.
She looked at Setto’s large hand resting on the gear stick.
It felt so good to be doing this right.
Pastor Ade’s house was tucked away inside a very quiet, green street in Ikeja GRA.
The house was one of those old-school bungalows that just looked solid and peaceful, surrounded by clean interlocking stones and massive mango trees that blocked out the harsh Lagos sun.
The moment Setto parked, the front door swung open, and Mummy Ade stepped out, adjusting her gorgeous bubu dress.
“Tammy!” she called out, a massive smile breaking across her face.
“Mummy!” Tammy hurried out of the car and ran into her arms, laughing as the older woman squeezed her tight.
The smell of standard home-cooked food– smoky jollof, fried fish, and fresh pepper stew was already drifting heavily from the kitchen.
Setto stepped out of the driver’s side, his massive frame instantly making the porch look small.
He walked up respectfully, bowing his head slightly as he reached them.
“Good afternoon, Ma. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice low and polite.
Mummy Ade looked up at him, her eyes scanning his face with that deep, motherly intuition.
A warm, satisfied expression settled over her face.
“Welcome. Come inside, come inside. Pastor is waiting.”
They walked into the cool living room, where the air conditioning was humming quietly.
Sitting at the dining table was Pastor Ade, looking relaxed in a short-sleeved shirt, his silver hair looking distinguished.
He stood up immediately he saw them.
“Man of God!” Pastor Ade smiled, walking over to shake his hand firmly.
“Tammy has sung your praises so much. Welcome. Please sit down.”
“Thank you, sir,” Setto smiled, pulling out a chair for Tammy before sitting down next to her.
Pastor Ade insisted they had lunch first before their meeting.
The food was brought out in large bowls, and the aroma was incredible.
After a quick, simple prayer from Pastor Ade, they all dug in, the conversation flowing naturally without any stiff formality.
As they ate, Pastor Ade poured himself some water and looked over at Setto.
“Setto, Tammy mentioned that your family is originally from the core North, but you people converted. How did your dad navigate that, especially with the business?”
Setto set his fork down, picking up his napkin.
“It wasn’t easy at all, Pastor. My grandfather was a traditional ruler, very deep into the old customs. So when my dad gave his life to Christ during his university days abroad, it was like a declaration of war. When he came back to Nigeria and refused to do any of the traditional rites, his father disowned him completely.”
“Hmmmm!!” Pastor Ade nodded, his face serious.
“Families don’t take things like that lightly at all. It takes real backbone to stand.”
“Yes, sir,” Setto continued.
“Even building Bello & Sons was a headache. People withheld contracts from him because he wouldn’t join certain elite clubs or do ‘homage’ to certain spiritual setups. They literally told him he would fail if he relied on just Jesus for the export trade. But my dad and mom stayed on their knees. Today, the same people who mocked him are bringing their children to him for jobs.”
Tammy looked at Setto, her face full of quiet pride.
Pastor Ade smiled deeply, clearly impressed.
“That’s it. A clean altar always wins. So, which church do you fellowship with? Who is your pastor?”
When Setto named his assembly and his senior pastor, Pastor Ade actually clapped his hands together, laughing.
“Ah! Excellent! That’s my brother. His doctrine is solid. If you are sitting under that word, then I know Tammy is in safe hands. A man who submits to good spiritual authority can run a home.”
Pastor Ade leaned forward slightly on the table, his eyes full of warmth as he looked at both of them.
“So, Setto, let’s talk clearly. You’ve both been praying, we’ve spoken on the phone, and you are here now. What’s the plan? What is the plan for Tammy?”
Setto didn’t even hesitate.
He sat up, looked Pastor Ade straight in the eye, and spoke with absolute certainty.
“Pastor, I want us to get married in the next few months,” Setto said simply.
Tammy’s heart skipped a beat.
She looked at him, a massive, genuine smile breaking across her face.
“Tammy is a queen, sir,” Setto said, his voice softening just a bit as he glanced at her.
“She’s built her life well, she has a beautiful spirit, and I’m not here to keep her waiting or play games. Everything is ready on my end. Once we get your blessings, we are moving straight to planning.”
Pastor Ade let out a rich, happy laugh.
“Beautiful. God really gives the best gifts when the time is right. Have the families met officially yet?”
“No, sir,” Setto answered.
“I told Tammy that before we even involve our families, we needed to come here first. We needed your leading and your prayers before any introduction. Once the spiritual foundation is solid, the rest will be easy.”
“That is wisdom,” Pastor Ade said, nodding with deep respect.
“Many young people do it backward and bring the chaos to church later. I’m happy you honored God first.”
After a heavy time of prayer in the living room, where Pastor Ade laid hands on them and spoke blessings over their upcoming marriage, Setto and Tammy finally said their goodbyes.
Mummy Ade even forced a plastic container of peppered fish into Tammy’s bag before letting them leave.
The G-Wagon was cool as they drove out of the close.
The evening sun was setting over Ikeja GRA, casting a warm, orange glow through the windows.
Instead of hitting the main road immediately, Setto pulled over under a quiet, shaded lane near the park and turned off the engine.
The quiet inside the car was instant.
He turned around fully in his seat, looking at Tammy.
She was sitting perfectly still, but the tears were already spilling over her eyelashes, rolling down her deep skin.
It was a release of all the stress, all the years of being strong alone, completely overwhelmed by how much Setto had honored her today.
“Hey,” Setto murmured, his voice incredibly soft.
He reached across, his massive arms wrapping around her petite shoulders and pulling her easily against his chest.
Tammy didn’t even fight it; she buried her face into his crisp white senator suit, her shoulders shaking as she let out a soft sob.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
“Setto, the way you spoke of me in there... the honor... I didn’t even know a man could cover me like that.”
Setto tightened his grip, his large hand cradling the back of her head, his chin resting against her hair.
“Please don’t cry, my love,” he said softly, a firm, possessive warmth in his voice.
“I told you I’m here for you. I would do absolutely anything to keep you safe and happy. You are home now, Tammy. We are doing this together, okay?”
Tammy let out a small, watery laugh, wiping her face as she looked up at him.
His eyes were steady, calm, and full of a love that didn’t need any performative vibes.
She leaned back against his chest, her heart completely at peace.
The video call screen on Tammy’s iPad was a chaotic grid of familiar, smiling faces.
After the meeting with Pastor Ade, she had practically floated back to her apartment.
She couldn’t keep this news to herself for another second.
She sat on her plush living room rug, her back resting against the sofa, a warm cup of tea cooling on the table beside her.
“Wait, wait!” Temitope shouted from her screen, her background showing the neat, familiar kitchen of her home .
“Sister Tammy, don’t tell me you called this emergency meeting just to show us your new dress. Look at your eyes. Talk to us!”
Shindara’s face popped closer to her camera, her eyes wide with instant suspicion.
“Look at her cheeks. She’s blushing. Big sister is blushing! Tolu, get on the line properly, stop staring at your hostel ceiling!”
Tolu’s face finally stabilized on the screen. He was sitting on his bunk bed at the university, his earphones plugged in, a boyish grin cutting across his face.
“I am here, ladies. Please let sister Tammy talk before you people use your werey to scare the news away.”
“You are the one with werey” Shindara countered.
“It’s okay oo, cat and rat.” Tolu scolded.
“Let’s get to the reason this call was initiated. Oya, sister Tammy, the floor is open.”
Tammy bit her lip, a massive, unstoppable smile breaking across her face. She leaned forward, looking at the three of them.
“Setto and I went to see Pastor Ade today in Ikeja,” Tammy began, her voice carrying a soft, nervous vibration.
“And?” Shindara leaned in so close her forehead blocked half her screen.
“And... he officially told Papa that he wants us to get married in the next few months. He said he’s not wasting any time. He wants to do the introductions immediately.”
For three seconds, the call was dead silent.
Then, the grid erupted into pure, unfiltered sibling madness.
“Glorayyyyyyyy!” Temitope screamed, jumping completely out of her kitchen chair, her phone shaking violently as she started dancing.
“I knew it! I just knew it! Ah, Sister Tammy!”
“Oya! Lagos high society, make way! Make way!!” Shindara was clapping her hands rhythmically against her thigh, her laughter ringing through the speakers.
“Mrs. Bello is coming! Standard elite wife! Sister Tammy, you must give me the job of sourcing for fabrics oo, because the Aso-Ebi for this wedding will be premium velvet. No cheap lace around here!”
“Big sister, congratulations,” Tolu grinned, his voice full of genuine pride as he nodded from his hostel room.
“At least that massive car will be parking in our compound now. When the man is coming for introduction, tell him his brother-in-law needs a new laptop for classes.”
“Tolu, shut up!” Shindara laughed.
“Look at this one, always thinking about his stomach and his gadgets. Sister Tammy, but seriously, how do you feel? Are you happy?”
Tammy wiped a stray tear of joy from her eye, looking at her siblings.
Both her sisters were happily married, and seeing them celebrate her after everything she had been through, the long nights of building her business, standing tall through every storm, felt like the ultimate validation.
“I am so happy, guys,” Tammy whispered, her voice thick.
“The way he spoke to Pastor Ade... the respect he showed me. It just felt so right.”
“It is right, my love,” Temitope said, her voice softening into that deep sisterly warmth.
“You deserve the absolute best. Oya, when are we moving down to Ibadan to inform the elders? You know how our aunties are, we need to give them a heads-up.”
“I’m driving down tomorrow morning,” Tammy said, taking a deep breath.
“I’ve already called a few of them. I want to handle the aunties and the elder uncles first.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Shindara asked.
“No oo, don’t worry,” Tammy replied.
“Setto even insisted on coming, but I told him to hold on. Let me just lay the groundwork with family first, then he can come in with the full delegation. You know how our people can be.”
“True,” Temitope sighed.
“Just go with wisdom. But today is for celebration! Let us toast to the latest bride in town!”
The morning air was crisp, but the sky was already clear, promising a hot drive down the Lagos-Ibadan expressway.
Setto stood by the driver-side door, his massive frame completely leaning against the car as he watched Tammy double-check her handbag.
He was dressed casually in dark trousers and a black polo shirt, but his face carried a heavy, unrelaxed expression.
“Babe,” Setto called out, his deep bass voice pulling her attention away from her keys.
“I still don’t like the idea of you driving down there alone. This is my business too. If we are announcing our plans for marriage, I should be there with you.”
Tammy walked up to him, a soft, reassuring smile on her lips.
She reached out, her small hands resting against his solid chest.
“Setto, please don’t worry,” she said softly, her eyes looking up into his.
“You know how traditional Nigerian families are. If a man just shows up unannounced for the very first conversation, my aunties will say I’m trying to force him on them. Let me go and do the normal family briefing first. I’ll tell them about your background, your family, and then we will pick a proper date for you to come down with your people. It’s better that way, trust me.”
Setto frowned, his large hand coming up to cover hers, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles.
He let out a slow, heavy breath.
“Lagos to Ibadan road is not completely safe, my love. And your family... I just don’t want anyone putting any heavy words on you.”
“Nobody can put anything on me,” Tammy cheered, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
“I am a strong girl, remember? And I have a very big, scary future husband protecting me. I will call you the moment I cross the toll gate.”
Setto stayed quiet for a beat, his eyes scanning her face, before he finally nodded.
He pulled open the driver’s door for her.
“Alright. Keep your phone close by. If anyone tries anything down there, you call me immediately. I mean it, Tammy.”
“I will,” she smiled, climbing into the car.
“Drive safe, baby. I love you.” He whispered.
“I love you too.” She replied.
As she pulled out of the compound, she watched him in her rearview mirror, standing firmly in the driveway until she cleared the gate.
Her heart was light, full of the sweet assurance of his love.
The family house in the old, serene district of Bodija, Ibadan, always smelled of damp concrete, old wooden furniture, and dried gin from ancestral ceremonies.
It was a massive, sprawling bungalow that had seen better decades, its walls lined with faded photographs of long-dead patriarchs.
When Tammy stepped into the spacious living room, the atmosphere was already thick.
This wasn’t a casual visit. Her aunties, Aunty Abike, Aunty Kehinde and two of her uncles, Uncle Kola and Uncle Tade, were already seated in a tight semicircle on the worn velvet sofas.
A single standing fan was humming loudly in the corner, doing nothing to clear the heavy, tense air.
“Good afternoon, Ma. Good afternoon, Sir,” Tammy said, dropping to her knees completely in the proper traditional greeting, her dress spreading around her on the rug.
“Hmm. Welcome, Tamilore,” Uncle Kola muttered, adjusting his agbada as he gestured for her to sit on a wooden chair opposite them.
“We received your call. You said you have something urgent to discuss concerning your marital life. We are listening.”
Tammy sat down, adjusting her bag in her lap, her throat suddenly feeling slightly dry.
She looked at Aunty Abike, who was already staring at her with a sour, unsmiling expression.
“Yes, Uncle,” Tammy began, forcing her voice to remain steady.
“As you all know, I’ve been in Lagos building my business and focusing on my work. But God has been faithful. A wonderful man has stepped into my life, and he has officially stated his intentions to marry me. We have already seen my pastor, and we wanted to come and inform the family so we can begin planning for the proper introduction.”
Before Uncle Kola could even open his mouth, Aunty Abike let out a loud, aggressive hiss that echoed through the high-ceilinged room.
“Look at this girl!” Aunty Abike shouted, throwing her hands in the air, her heavy gold bangles clinking violently.
“She has the mouth to come here and talk about another man! Tamilore, are you not ashamed? After all the stress I went through to link you up with Femi? A proper, decent boy from a good family who just came back from Manchester! You broke his heart, threw his family’s offer away, and now you are running here to tell us you found someone else? Who is this one again?”
Tammy closed her eyes for a brief second, holding onto her peace.
“Aunty Abike, please, I’ve explained this to you before. Femi is a wonderful person, but we just didn’t work out that way. We are actually very good friends now. It wasn’t a heartbreak situation….”
“Shut up!” Aunty Abike snapped, her face twisting in anger.
“Don’t tell me to please anything! You think you are too big for the matches we make for you? Anyway, who is this man? What is his family name? What does he do?”
Tammy took a deep breath, trying to shift the focus to something her family would value.
She knew how much her aunties respected status.
“He is a very successful businessman, Aunty,” Tammy said quickly, trying to deflect the name for a second.
“His family runs a massive global logistics and natural resource export corporation in Lagos. They are incredibly wealthy, very well-respected in corporate sectors, and he is a deeply committed Christian.”
As expected, the mention of “incredibly wealthy” made Aunty Kehinde’s eyes light up instantly.
She adjusted her head tie, leaning forward with a sudden change in temperature.
“Eh eh, they have a global corporation? Wealthy? Well... God is good. But Tamilore, you still haven’t told us the family name. Who are his parents? Where are they from?”
The room fell into a dead silence, the loud hum of the standing fan suddenly feeling like a countdown.
Tammy swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around her handbag straps.
She knew this was the hurdle, but she hadn’t anticipated the depth of the drop.
“His name is Setto,” Tammy said clearly, looking straight at Uncle Kola.
“Setto Bello. His family is from the North... They are fulanis but his father is Christian.”
The moment the word “Bello” and “Fulani” left Tammy’s mouth, the living room didn’t just get quiet. It erupted like a volcano.
Aunty Kehinde literally jumped off her seat, her face contorting into an expression of absolute horror.
She covered her mouth, her eyes bulging as she screamed toward the ceiling.
“God forbid! Olorun ma je! Over our dead bodies will our daughter bring a Hausa man to this family! Look at this girl! Are you out of your mind?”
“What rubbish are you calling in this house?” Uncle Tade boomed, slamming his heavy fist against the wooden armrest of his chair, his voice shaking the old photographs on the wall.
“Bello? Fulani? A muslim? Tamilore, have your senses completely left you in that Lagos?”
Tammy stood up instinctively, her chest heaving as the sudden, violent wall of hostility hit her.
“Uncle, No oh! He is a Christian! His family…..”
“Don’t tell me about any Christianity!” Aunty Abike roared, stepping directly into Tammy’s space, her finger pointing aggressively, almost touching Tammy’s nose.
“Those people are different! Their culture will swallow you alive! They will oppress you, marry three more wives behind your back, and lock you in the house! Are you blind? Don’t you read the news? Don’t you see what those people are doing to our people?”
“Never!” Uncle Kola shouted, his older voice cracking with a fierce, deep-seated prejudice.
“We will never support this! We will never sit down to receive any delegation with that name! You want to go and pack your load and give it to a Gambari? To people that are not human beings? Killers! Good-for-nothing devils!”
“God forbid! Akiika!” Aunty Kehinde was vigorously shaking her head, snapping her fingers over her skull to reject the curse.
“A girl that is single at this age, instead of you to sit down and find a proper Yoruba boy like Femi to marry, you want to follow a mallam? You want to go and become a slave in the North? Over our dead bodies!”
The insults started flying from every corner of the room, sharp, heavy, and dripping with raw, generational tribalism.
They weren’t just rejecting Setto; they were stripping Tammy down.
They shamed her for being single, they shamed her for living alone in Lagos, they threw curses at the very thought of the union, their voices blending into a deafening choir of hatred.
“You will not bring that bloodline near this family!” Uncle Tade yelled.
“If you marry him, you are on your own! No uncle will stand for you! No aunt will sit at the engagement table! You will be dead to this house!”
Tammy stood in the center of the room, completely paralyzed.
The words felt like physical blows, tearing through her armor, shattering the beautiful, pure joy she had carried from Lagos.
She looked at her aunties, the women who had held her when her mother passed, now looking at her with eyes full of utter disgust and venom.
“He is a good man,” Tammy whispered, her voice completely breaking, the first hot tear spilling over her cheek.
“He loves me... he honors me...”
“Go away with your foolish love!” Aunty Abike hissed, turning her back on her completely.
“Get out of this house before you bring abomination upon our heads! Foolish girl!”
The heavy floor-to-ceiling glass windows of Setto’s office overlooked the quiet, glittering expanse of the Lagos lagoon, but he wasn’t looking at the view.
He was pacing the length of the polished wood floor, his large frame restlessly shifting as he held his phone to his ear.
The line rang twice before a warm, soft voice came through the speaker.
“Setto, my darling,” Dr. Amina Bello said, her voice instantly bringing a wave of calm into the tense office.
“Good afternoon. How are you?”
“Mother, good afternoon,” Setto said, the hard lines of his face softening immediately at the sound of his mother’s voice.
He sat on the edge of his massive mahogany desk, tapping a heavy finger against his knee.
“I am fine, Ma. Everything is moving well. I’m actually calling you because of something very important. I wanted to give you an update.”
“Oh? I am listening,” Dr. Amina replied, her tone turning curious and instantly attentive.
“I went to see Tammy’s Pastor yesterday,” Setto said, a small, proud smile finally touching his lips.
“Okay. How did it go?”
“It went very well, Ma. We had lunch with him and his wife, then we laid down our initial plans. I officially told him that I want to marry her in the next few months. We received his full blessing and prayers.”
On the other end of the line, a joyful, elegant laugh erupted from his mother.
“Ah! Praise be to God! Setto, this is the best news I have heard all month. You know how much I love that girl. I am glad you guys are taking this step. Tammy is a gem”
“She is, Mother,” Setto murmured, his chest expanding with pride.
“She really is.”
“And what of her family?” Dr. Amina asked, her sharp, motherly instincts kicking in.
“Have you spoken to them?”
“That’s actually where she is right now,” Setto explained, his eyes drifting back to the window, a slight frown returning to his face.
“She went down to Ibadan this morning to do the formal briefing with her aunties and uncles. I wanted to go with her, but she insisted on handling them alone first, just to lay the groundwork before I bring our delegation down. She should be wrapping up around this time.”
“That is wisdom on her part,” his mother said thoughtfully.
“Yoruba family protocols can be very specific, and it’s good she is giving them that honor. Please let me know the moment she gives you feedback so your father and I can begin making arrangements on our side.”
“I will call you immediately she reaches out, Ma. Thank you.”
“God bless you, my son. Give my love to Tamilore when she calls.”
Tammy didn’t remember how she walked out of the bungalow.
She didn’t remember opening her car door or starting the engine.
By the time the reality of what had happened fully registered, she was already past the speeding down the Lagos-bound lane of the expressway.
The steering wheel felt cold and slippery under Tammy’s trembling palms.
She bypassed a heavy container truck with a sharp, violent jerk that almost sent the car into the gravel shoulder of the expressway, but she could barely process the danger.
Her vision was entirely swimming in tears. Every time she wiped her face with the back of her hand, a fresh wave of hot, suffocating sobs would tear from her throat, choking her.
The screen of her phone on the passenger seat lit up again, buzzing aggressively against the leather.
Setto 👑.
The name looked blurred through her tear-stained eyes.
She stared at it, her heart squeezing into a tight, agonizing knot.
She couldn’t pick it up. If she opened her mouth right now to speak to him, the raw, bleeding pain in her voice would terrify him.
If she heard his deep, calm voice right now, she would completely lose control of the car.
She just let it ring, the sound cutting through the quiet cabin as she drove back to Lagos, her heart completely shattered into a thousand pieces.
“A Gambari? You want to go and become a mallam in the North? People that are not human beings!”
Aunty Abike’s venomous face flashed in her mind, making Tammy gasp for air, her chest heaving violently under her cream dress.
The sheer weight of the tribalism was like a physical brick wall pressing down on her lungs.
How could something so pure, something so anchored in prayer and blessing, be dragged through so much dirt in a single afternoon?
The sheer weight of the prejudice was crushing her.
She felt entirely alone, caught between the beautiful future she wanted to build with Setto and the violent, unyielding walls of her own bloodline.
She pressed her foot harder on the accelerator, the engine roaring as she fled the shadow of Ibadan, desperate to get back to the only city where she felt she could breathe, even if her heart was currently bleeding in a thousand pieces.
Setto pulled his phone away from his ear, staring at the screen as the call timed out and went straight to voicemail for the third consecutive time.
He set the phone down on the desk, his jaw clenching hard.
The silence in the office was suddenly heavy, almost suffocating.
It wasn’t like Tammy to ignore his calls, especially not today.
Even if she was deep in a family discussion, she would have sent a quick, short text to say
“Still in the meeting, will call you back.”
But there was absolutely nothing.
Just a dead, ringing silence that was beginning to trigger every protective, alarm bell inside his chest.
He walked over to the massive glass window, crossing his large arms over his chest, his eyes tracking the movement of cars far below.
The sun was hitting the concrete hard outside, but inside, a cold, heavy feeling was settling deep in his gut.
He knew how traditional elders could be.
He knew the kind of subtle, underlying friction that often came with cross-cultural unions in Nigeria.
He had trusted Tammy when she said she could handle her people, but right now, the absolute silence from her end was telling a completely different story.
He picked up the phone again, his thumb hovering over her contact name.
His heart was hammering against his ribs, a restless, dark energy vibrating through his muscles.
“Baby, where are you?” he muttered fiercely into the quiet room, his fingers tightening around the device.
He hit the dial button one more time, praying to hear her voice, completely unaware that his woman was currently driving through a storm of tears just an hour away from him.
Oh my ship🥹🥹.
Do you blame the relatives though??
What do you think?
Are they being unfair or just?
Let me hear you in the comments.
See you all tomorrow for an episode of Saved By Grace
Tribalism is deeply rooted in elders for real and I've personally seen and heard an elder lash out this way. It's only grace and several prayers that the union could hold fr 🥺
God be with you Tammy baby 🥺
And educated Fulani men are very fine o, especially the cadence of their speech ehnnn, it is well.
Meanwhile, the elders did too much fr, just too much, my baby girl should sha not have an accident o 🙏
This was my experience last year. It was only by God's grace that I was able to bypass my families prejudices and got married last month.