The sun had barely risen, but the Lewis household was already abuzz with movement. The air buzzed with urgency and excitement as staff hurried through the halls, arms laden with trays, fabrics, and delicately wrapped items. Lady Bell stood at the center of it all, directing, inspecting, correcting, with the sharp precision of a woman who would settle for nothing less than perfection.
"Has the palm wine been loaded into the car?" she asked, scanning the hallway where two stewards were lifting wooden crates.
"Yes, ma'am. Fresh and sealed."
"And the calabashes? The carved ones, make sure they're wrapped in the cloth so they don't crack on the road."
"They're wrapped and labeled, just like you asked."
"Good. The kola nuts? Don't forget the envelope. And the ring box, where is the ring box?" she snapped, already heading toward the formal sitting room.
Inside, lined neatly on the long glass table, were the gifts: fine wrappers folded with expert care, a selection of carved jewelry boxes, bottles of imported wine nestled in straw baskets, and a heavy white-and-gold envelope sealed with ribbon. It was a display that sent one clear message: We value your daughter. We honour her. We come to you with intention.
Lady Bell's eyes swept over the items one last time, hands on her hips as she exhaled slowly. She was determined that there would be no mistake, no oversight, nothing that would give the Cole family reason to second-guess the union.
The sound of footsteps descending the grand staircase pulled her from her thoughts.
At last.
Daniel descended the stairs with Betty at his side. Both were dressed in coordinated traditional wear, rich green and deep copper. Betty wore a matching headwrap that sat perfectly atop her braids, her wrists jingling with golden bangles. Daniel's attire was elegant, his agbada tailored to precision and stitched with fine embroidery. He looked regal, but more importantly, he looked ready.
Lady Bell's sharp gaze swept over them and then , finally, she gave a single, satisfied nod"Finally," she said. "You both look presentable. No wrinkles. No color clashes. No wrinkles. And thank the heavens, you're both dressed like you're going to seek someone's hand in marriage, not a fashion show."
Daniel chuckled, giving a mock bow. "Always a pleasure to pass your inspection, Mother."
Lady Bell gave him a dry look. "Very funny, but you barely did it"
Betty grinned. "I told you she'd say that."
Lady Bell smiled waving her words and said to Daniel "Now go eat something light. You can't propose marriage on an empty stomach or worse, faint before her uncles give their consent."
Betty chuckled and looped her arm through Daniel's. "We'll survive, Aunt Bell."
Lady Bell turned back toward the front of the house. "Let's hope so. Because today isn't just about showing up. It's about showing her family that we will love and respect their daughter. That she is worth every effort made this morning. And if even a single aunt frowns… Daniel, I swear…"
Daniel held up both hands. "Noted. No frowns."
"Good. Now go and eat something light. The convoy leaves in thirty minutes. I want you seated in the first car. Betty, sit with me and the aunties. Let's give them a strong front."
"Yes, ma'am."
Lady Bell gave the staff one final instruction, then began mentally running through the checklist again.
The morning had started with pressure, but now it hummed with purpose. The Lewis family was ready, to show face, to do it right, and to ask for the hand of Esther Cole.
If the Lewis mansion was a hive of preparation, the Cole residence was a full-blown festival of anticipation. The compound had been transformed overnight, white and gold canopies fluttered at the front, chairs arranged neatly in rows under the shaded veranda. Palms had been woven into arches at the entrance, and woven raffia mats lined the steps to the front door. The home stood proud, dressed not only in tradition but in a quiet dignity that spoke of love, heritage, and family pride.
Outside, three elderly men stood under the awning, their flowing native wear crisp, their faces stern but composed. Esther's uncles, from her late father's side, had arrived early, as custom demanded. They were the ones who would receive the groom's delegation. They would ask the necessary questions. They would weigh the man's character. And if satisfied, they would give their blessing on behalf of Esther's father.
"Let's hope this man speaks well," Uncle Marrah muttered to the others, adjusting his walking stick. "And that his people don't come here like they own the whole country."
"They say he's a big man," Uncle Sorie replied, "but let's see if he has respect. That's what matters."
Inside the house, the scent of spices, woodsmoke, and boiling palm oil curled through the air. In the kitchen, Musu stirred a bubbling pot of jollof rice, her wrapper hitched high on her waist as she shouted over the chatter of two aunties washing chicken and slicing onions.
"Don't forget the pepper for the sauce!" she called.
"Can you believe the child is soon to be betrothed one of the women teased with a chuckle.
"I mean, it happening so soon. Her hands will be given away any moment" Another added, stirring the source
Musu smiled to herself, her heart a complicated swirl of emotions, joy, pride, anxiety. Her baby girl was becoming someone's wife. But she wouldn't let sentimentality slow her down. The food had to be perfect. The house had to be spotless. The guests had to be fed.
Meanwhile in Esther's bedroom, however, it was a different kind of chaos.
Zainab was perched at the edge of the bed, holding up a glittering pair of earrings. "These match better than the ones you picked. Trust me, I have taste."
Dija, sitting cross-legged on the floor, burst into laughter. "Taste? You wore neon green to a funeral once."
"That was a fashion statement," Zainab sniffed, then turned to Esther, who was seated before the mirror. "You look nervous."
Esther gave a small laugh, smoothing down the intricate embroidery on her blouse. Her gele was already tied, the folds sharp and elegant. The rich maroon fabric hugged her perfectly, and the gold jewelry around her neck shimmered under the light.
"I'm not nervous," she said. "I'm just… thinking."
"About him?" Dija asked, eyes twinkling. "Or about how your uncles might drag this whole thing if they don't like what they see?"
"Both," Esther admitted.
"Well, relax," Zainab said, coming behind her to adjust a loose strand of hair. "If they mess up, we have a backup plan. Dija can stage a dramatic objection and whisk you away on a motorbike."
Dija laughed, throwing a scarf at her. "Please! I came here for food and drama. If anyone's running off, it's me, with that pepper soup!"
The three of them burst into laughter, the tension momentarily forgotten.
From outside, the sound of a distant car horn echoed down the road.
"Looks like they're close," Zainab said, peeking out the window.
Esther inhaled deeply.
It was happening.
The house she had grown up in was now the site of a new chapter, a home about to give one of its daughters away.
Well not now but soon after the traditional ceremony and then the white wedding, hopefully.
At exactly eleven o'clock, the low, deliberate honk of car horns echoed down the quiet street, causing neighbors to peer through their curtains or stand at their porches with curiosity. The convoy had arrived.
Four sleek black SUVs pulled into the compound with measured grace, engines purring as they came to a smooth stop. Behind them, a pickup truck followed carefully, stacked high with traditional offerings, palm wine in polished calabashes, crates of soft drinks, woven baskets filled with kola nuts and smoked fish, and yes, the symbolic live goat, tied but calm.
But then came the second surprise.
A second pickup van rolled in slowly behind the first, this one louder, fuller, and almost comedic in contrast to the refined black SUVs ahead. Its back was packed with goats. Not one. Not two. At least twenty, each bleating loudly as the vehicle came to a halt. Tails flicked. Hooves clinked against the metal floor. The scent of farm and money filled the air.
As if that wasn't enough, another truck followed, this one carrying not one cow, as was the custom… but three. Massive, well-fed cows with thick hides and steady eyes. Their handlers stepped out first, guiding the animals with decorated ropes and a clear sense of ceremony.
Heads turned. The Cole compound buzzed.
The bride's uncles, five of them, all in flowing traditional wear and seated beneath the veranda, sat up straighter. Their eyes scanned the livestock, the wine, the fine wrappers glinting in the morning sun.
"Is this a wedding or a royal coronation?" one of the younger uncles whispered, adjusting his cap.
Another chuckled, leaning closer. "Just say yes now. What else are we expecting? The man has brought the whole market."
"I heard he owns LewisTech," someone muttered. "One of the richest in the country."
"Three cows," someone else echoed, eyes wide. "Even our father didn't get that many for his daughters combined!"
The murmurs grew, building in speculation and quiet laughter, until Uncle Marrah, the eldest and most respected of the group, raised a firm hand.
"That is enough," he said coolly, his voice cutting clean through the whispers. "Let us not give our daughter away for the weight of cows and coin. A man's wealth is not the only thing that makes him a worthy husband."
The rest fell silent, backs straightening, expressions sobering under his command.
"We will hear from the groom," he continued, "and judge with our eyes, ears, and hearts. Not our greed."
Just then, Daniel stepped forward. He hadn't heard the whispers, but he had certainly seen the shift in their postures. He bowed respectfully, with Betty beside him and Lady Bell watching like a silent guardian. And though his gifts had spoken volumes, it was now his character that had to do the talking.
From behind the curtain, Esther stifled a laugh, shaking her head. "Goodness, is your uncle okay?," she muttered looking at Dija.
"What, don't look at me. He's just being sufficient" Dija said grinning.
"Sufficient?. Does that look sufficient to you?" Esther asked looking the the goats stack at one corner of their compound. "That's a massive gesture screaming wealth, look how many they are." She sighed, hoping this gesture of his falls in his favors instead of making him come out proud and showing off. Her others uncle might be sworn away but her father's second brothe Marrah wasn't easily bought.
"Don't worry, uncle knows what's he doing, besides he have my father at his side. He's a master at negotiating and striking deals. He'll help win over your tough uncles" Dija said
Zianab nodded in agreement. "Let hope so. Cause Uncle Marrah, him, he might just have them return without no bride if one word is spoken wrong" she added "the man had three suitors sent away because they were talking too much, or boastful at his two daughter introduction day".
"Will you people leave that to the men to handle" Dija simply said, pulling her friend in to wave her mind away. "Have faith in your future husband, and if your stubborn uncle tries anything. He might just kidnap you and run away"
"That's an awful joke, but thanks" Esther said smiling.
Musu emerged from the kitchen, apron quickly removed, headscarf adjusted. "They're here!" one of the aunties called from the hallway, and like clockwork, the house shifted into position, elders taking their seats, young boys ushered to the side, the women gathering discreetly behind veils and curtains to watch from within.
Another SUV doors opened one by one, and out stepped the Lewis delegation.
Daniel was the first to emerge, tall and composed in his deep blue traditional agbada, trimmed with gold embroidery. At his side, little Betty clung to his hand in a smaller version of the same outfit, her gele tied with the precision of Lady Bell's high standards.
Right behind them was Lady Bell herself, regal in her wine-colored lace and towering headwrap, a golden fan in hand, her chin lifted proudly as she surveyed the family awaiting them. Her eyes flicked over the decor, the assembled elders, the gifts on display, everything passed her silent inspection.
Thomas, Alie, Ibrahim, and a few other trusted friends and staff followed behind, each carrying a piece of the offering or holding ceremonial trays covered in white cloth.
As they approached the open compound, the lead uncle stepped forward. Uncle Marrah cleared his throat and raised a palm in greeting.
"Welcome," he said firmly, his eyes sweeping over Daniel and the men beside him. He shook hands with Daniel first, then with the tall man next to him, Kabil, Dija's father and the family's official spokesperson for the day.
Without delay, they were led inside. The living room was modest but well-prepared, the kind of setting that carried history and pride. The soft aroma of spices lingered in the air, and distant kitchen clatter hinted at ongoing preparations.
Daniel and his companions were offered seats on the guests' side. Across from them sat Esther's uncles, four of them, hands clasped, faces stern, watching intently.
Daniel took his seat, careful and composed. He had done this before, years ago, but this felt new. This was not a show. This was for Esther.
As tradition demanded, a woman from the bride's family came in and asked to take Betty aside. She smiled and followed willingly, leaving only the men in the room for the official discussion.
Kabil leaned forward slightly and began with calm confidence.
"Before we say anything else, we'd like to thank you, elders, for welcoming us into your home," he said. "We haven't come here to eat your food or waste your time, we've come with respect, with intention, and with a request."
A few heads nodded slightly.
"My brother here, Daniel Lewis, has seen something precious in your family. A daughter. A woman who has captured his heart and spirit. Today, we come to follow the proper path. We come to knock, and if you permit, to enter honorably. We ask for your blessing for Daniel to take Esther Cole as his wife."
Silence followed his words. Not of rejection, but of gravity.
Finally, Uncle Marrah sat back and spoke.
"We hear you. But we don't take these matters lightly. A woman isn't a thing you simply come to take. She is someone's daughter. Our blood. And before we give her hand to any man, we must know, who is Daniel Lewis? Why should we trust him with our daughter? How can we be certain he will protect her, honour her, and not bring shame to her family name?"
Daniel stood slowly. His voice was steady but sincere.
"Thank you, sir," he began. "I understand the weight of your questions, and I respect them. My name is Daniel Lewis. I was born and raised in this country. I run a company called LewisTech, and with God's help, it has grown into something successful."
He paused for breath.
"But today, I didn't come as a businessman. I came as a man in love. Esther is not just someone I want to marry, she's someone I deeply respect. She has a good heart, a strong mind, and a spirit that humbles me. She brings peace into my life."
Daniel met the eyes of each uncle before continuing.
"I know I'm not without flaws. But if you give me your blessing, I promise to honor her. I will protect her. And I will carry this responsibility with everything I have."
There was a beat of silence. Then the uncles leaned together, whispering quietly. A few looked uncertain. One of the uncles raised an eyebrow. Another gave a faint nod, slightly impressed. But Uncle Marrah remained composed, his tone even as he spoke again.
"We can't proceed until our daughter identifies you."
With that, he turned to Musu.
"Sister, please bring Esther out."
Musu nodded and quietly left the room. Inside Esther's bedroom, Zainab and Dija were perched comfortably on the bed, bowls of rice in hand, eating straight from the pot like it was a girls' night in.
"Hmmm," Dija moaned, scooping another bite. "I have to say, this is delicious."
"No one told me that 'show face' rice tastes this good," Zainab added, licking her spoon.
Just then, the door opened. Musu walked in, her face calm but serious. Instinctively, they knew what came next.
"Your uncles want to see you," she said gently, reaching for Esther's hand and helping her up. No more hiding. It was time.
Moments later, Musu stepped into the living room with Esther by her side. All eyes turned to her. She kept her gaze low, her hands nervously clasped in front of her.
"Esther, child," Uncle Marrah called. "Do you know anyone by the name of Daniel Lewis?"
Esther glanced up briefly, catching Daniel's eye before quickly looking away, her face unreadable. A pause stretched. She gave a slow wink at Daniel, but stayed silent.
Kabil sighed, already prepared for this. He reached into his pocket and laid a bundle of cash on the table.
"How about now?" he asked, smiling knowingly. It was tradition, the bride must feign reluctance until properly coaxed by offerings.
"Yes," Esther finally replied with a small smile.
"Good," Marrah continued, "and can you point out this Daniel Lewis among the men seated here?"
Esther looked up, scanning the room, then lowered her gaze again, silent.
Daniel chuckled softly, nodding at Kabil. Understanding the cue, Kabil laid down another bundle.
"Our wife, is this enough?"
Esther lifted her hand and pointed squarely at Daniel. "That's him."
"Do you know why he's here today?" Uncle Marrah asked, continuing the formal script.
Esther nodded but held up a finger. "Yes, I do… but…" she paused dramatically, rubbing her temples as though the reason had momentarily slipped her mind.
Daniel shook his head with a smile and signaled to Thomas. Thomas came forward, holding a leather bag, and set it on the table. Daniel unzipped it, revealing bundles of crisp cash.
"Is this enough now, wife?" Daniel teased.
One of the uncles reached forward eagerly, lifting the bag with barely contained glee.
Esther smiled and said, "He's here to ask for my hand in marriage."
Marrah nodded. "And do you want us to accept his proposal?"
Without hesitation this time, Esther said, "Yes. I want to be given to him."
The groom's side erupted in cheerful applause and claps of approval.
"Alright, then," Uncle Marrah said, raising his voice slightly to be heard. "Since our daughter has identified you, and since you come with open hands and honest intent, it's now time for us, as her fathers, to see what you've brought to convince us."
Daniel rose, lifted the calabash wrapped in white cloth, and carefully placed it on the mat in the center of the room. Inside were the kola nuts—symbolic, sacred. Behind him, other gifts were placed: bolts of fine fabric, crates of drinks, smoked fish, and a white envelope sealed in gold.
"It's not much," Daniel began humbly. "But I hope you accept this small price from me and my family, for the honor of your daughter. It's only one million dollars."
The room fell silent.
Eyes widened. One uncle leaned in toward the other. "Did he say one million?"
"You heard right," another whispered back, his mouth slightly agape.
Uncle Sorie leaned over. "How much is one million dollars in Leones?"
The murmurs swelled like a rising wave until Uncle Marrah shot them a hard, stone-faced glare. The whispers died instantly. Though he himself was stunned, he held firm, this was his late brother's daughter's day, and he wouldn't let anyone reduce it to a spectacle.
Marrah turned back to Daniel with a nod.
"I see. That's… acceptable," he said with composed dignity. "You've proven your sincerity and love for our daughter. As her uncles, we are prepared to.."
The doors flung open with a sudden crash.
"This 'show face' cannot happen!"
All heads turned sharply.
There stood Sarah, regal in an elaborate dress, her head crowned with a bold wig, her posture demanding attention. She walked in like she was the one being proposed to, not her sister.
"Mr. Lewis," she said loudly, eyes locking on Daniel. "There is something you need to know before you go through with this ceremony."
The room fell into stunned silence.
Even the uncles looked unsure whether to interrupt or wait.
Daniel stared, jaw clenched, but otherwise still.
Esther's heart sank, but her expression remained neutral.
The storm had arrived.