Almost a Bride: My Teenage 2go Nightmare

My first marriage proposal came when I was 15, from a stranger I met online - and met in person.

Wedding bells are ringing so loud this weekend and I am seriously considering investing in earplugs to shut out all the noise. But before I do, let me tell you about my first brush with matrimony, my first marriage proposal - and no, it wasn't at the altar.

It is the year 2014. I'm in SS2, and smartphones are as rare as a Nigerian politician keeping their promises. The hottest app then was 2go - where everyone and their grandma were searching for their soulmate. 

There were 2go rooms for every topic on earth, and even if you were not interested in the romance part, you still have levels to up. I think I got up to Master sha before mine folded up. Everyone was busy securing dates and meeting the love of their lives. In fact, just think Tinder, but with a lot more typos, abbreviations, and less swiping.

Now, I didn't have a fancy phone, but my mom had just bought a C1 - the Nokia 3310 of that time. So, like any respectable teenager, I'd wait until my mom was snoring louder than a generator and sneak into her room to borrow her phone. Fine, my mum does not snore but you get the picture. I was caught a few times but who cares?

Waiting for Mummy to fall asleep.

Now, I met this guy who I will call Stuart.  

Stuart wasn't just any random user - oh no. He was the Senior Prefect of his school. I was the Head Girl of mine. He was very intelligent as well. One thing that stood out from him was that he never used any of those abbreviation nonsense in his texts, he would spell out the words in full and even punctuate.

Here comes Prince Charming

No, don’t give me that look. That was not where I learned to punctuate my sentences.

It was like a match made in high school heaven. Plus, we were both pastor's kids - we bonded faster than you could think.

We'd exchange Bible verses like cards, but believe me when I tell you that in between "The Lord is my shepherd" and "I can do all things through Christ," there was enough sexual tension between us to power PHCN for a week. We were basically flirting in the King James Version.

Anyway, we finally decided to have a physical meeting. That would be my first date or hangout ever in my life. Now, I was naïve enough to meet a stranger without proper precautions, yes but I had read enough of my dad’s crime magazines to know that I had to meet him in a public place. So, I pretended like I was going to my friend’s place only to go to the Bus Stop, and travel some towns over to meet the Pastor love of my life with whom I would make beautiful Christian babies.

The first sign that something was amiss was me missing the road, but sure, I quickly recovered. Nothing will stand in the way of me seeing my future pastor husband.

The second one was that I was catfished. To date, I am sure that my “handsome” Pastor-to-be potential husband must have discovered some future AI editing app at that time because when I say he looked nothing like his pictures, you have to believe me and in the worst way ever. Think  less "divine intervention" and more "divine practical joke." 

Who da fuck is this?

But Mama didn't raise me to be rude so I smiled when I met him and pretended everything was okay.

The third was him mounting the same bike as me. That was the first time a man had ever shared a bike with me. Can I call him a man? Technically, he was 18 then. And guess where the bike took us to? Not to the restaurant where he said we would have the date? To his house. His house.

I do not need to explain that at that point I was already very scared. First, I could not trace my way back home, and if it got down to it, I could not fight my way out of it.

I am 25 years old now. Size 8 and weigh 58kg. After being a gym rat for a year plus. Now, imagine what I looked like at age 15. Get the idea? Great.

I asked him why we were at his place instead of the restaurant he said we would have the date but he just said something came up.

Can you believe this guy? Something came up where my life is involved?

I sat as close to the door as possible counting the time before I could run back to my house. I think at some point, two of his male cousins came to visit him as well. Great! Now it's a party. I sat there, mentally drafting my will and wondering if God would count that one sin so big that I wouldn’t make it to heaven.

I was just praying at that point, telling the Good Lord to protect me and let me go home in one piece. And what pained me the most was that this guy saw how uncomfortable I was and just didn’t care.

Ehe. Now, to the marriage proposal part. 

So while I was sitting at the door, shaking in fear, and I mean visibly shaking, he started talking about how he would love to be a pastor, missionary like his father, and take the Word of God to all nations. Then, he paused and came to kneel in front of me.

“Vicky, I would need a partner to carry out God's work. Will you be my wife and share the good news of the kingdom?”

That was his exact words, I promise you. I might be a dumb teenager who met a man off the internet without precautions but Hell will let loose before I accept a marriage proposal at 15. 

I am pretty sure even the angels above were facepalming at this point. There was no way I was about to become a child bride. What happened to the good old days of post-college proposals with flowers and fairy lights? And this even felt more like a hostage situation than a Hallmark romcom.

Of course, now I know it was just an act to get me to spread my legs or whatever.

Still, I didn’t say No. I said I was going to think about it. And for the next eternity (okay, ten minutes), my date started to tell me about a lot of people who met each other and just knew they were right for each other and got married immediately to prosper God’s kingdom.

 At this point, I was like. “Alright, God, I get it. No more internet dating. Can I go home now?”

I wish I could tell you that he did not try to make moves on me. I would love to tell you that this Holy Spirit-filled brother kept his hands to himself. Oh, and I mean it about the Holy Spirit-filled part. He had urged me to pray to be filled and to start speaking in tongues like him.

Apparently, the part of being filled with the Holy Spirit did not get to physical desires. Anyway, I say No, and that I am saving myself for marriage. It took a lot of talking and running around the room but he finally got it. More like I threatened to leave, but yeah, he finally gets it.

Finally, the date is over. I go home. I returned so late that my mum somehow sensed that I was not at my friend’s. She asks me a lot of questions but I lie so well in those days that I did not get into trouble much.

Two weeks later, guess who wants an evangelism partner to preach in the streets of Onitsha? Oh, and all night vigil in his house. Again, I am not that dumb. Finally, I block him and move on with my life.

2018- I am preparing to get into Uni and he chats me up all of a sudden. Says he has been to Bible school and is now preparing to go into full-time ministry. I congratulate him. He asks me if I was married yet. Nope, still single and ready to mingle... with my textbooks. 

He said he still sees us working for God.

Pastor and Pastor Mrs Stuart...

Lmao. Sure pastor,  I will pass the collection plate while you lay your hands on teenagers. 

I promise you I am not being cruel because the very next day, he asks if I'm comfortable sexting. Yup. Nothing says  "man of God" like soliciting inappropriate messages from a barely legal teen, right?   

Blockedddddd. Again.

Fast forward to this year, and who pops up on my Facebook? The Pastor himself, courtesy of Mark Zuckerberg's "People You Might Know" algorithm. Thanks, Mark, for always knowing exactly who I'm trying to forget. Eye roll.

And I know the questions in your head.

Yes, he is now a pastor. 

Yes, he got married around March, I think. Again, blame Zuckerberg's algorithm for that nugget of information.

Did he change his ways? Who knows? I am not exactly on his prayer chain.

All I know is that I took one look at the pictures of him and his wife, and somehow, I am glad I’m not her.

And that, my friends, is how I escaped becoming a child bride and Mummy G.O. at 15. Hallelujah!

While writing this, I played Nina Simone-Sinnerman. I think you would love it too.

Do you have any similar stories or any similar encounters with “Christian” brothers? Share in the comment section. And don’t forget to share, like, comment and subscribe.

I will see you next week.