By ANGELA NKAMERE
“I am Sandra and I am beautiful”, “I am Sandra and I am drop dead gorgeous”, “I am Sandra and I am a diva, my body is perfect, my mind is right and I am about to marry the most handsome man in the world”, I said to myself admiring my refection in the mirror, I had changed, blossomed into a more confident, beautiful woman. I turned to my side inspecting my full behind. Damn I looked good. Mr Jite you are in for it, you wanted a hot wife and now you’ve gotten yourself a bombshell! White suited me, in fact everything suited me, I ran my palm through the silhouetted –ball gown styled wedding dress I had on, the sequencing was beautiful, who ever thought Cinderella’s ball gown came in a size 16? My mind flooded with mixed emotions, I was so happy; overwhelmed was a more appropriate description for what I felt at that moment, joy mixed with fear, fear not because I was afraid he wouldn’t go through with it but fear because I had finally gotten what I always wanted, happiness but would I be able to handle it? I feared I would explode from too much joy or trip on my wedding gown while hurrying down the aisle. Wouldn’t that be something, I would fall flat on my face and everyone would laugh, I chuckled at the thought as I whirled myself around, it would be more of a comic relief than an embarrassment; I would stand up laugh and continue on my way. All that mattered was being he’s wife. MRS SANDRA OMO, wife of MR JITE OMO. I nearly shrieked, the thought of it alone sent me to the highest of clouds and back again. It wasn’t always like this, my joy that is...
