Post by Collins Maduabuchi Idoko (@Maduabuchii)

When Uncle Dele received the invitation, he read only two words: Ibadan and Hall. He folded the card into his pocket and forgot it until Saturday morning, when he ironed his black suit, his black shirt and his black tie, and drove to the hall.

He walked in with a solemn face. The ushers led him to the front row. The organ music was soft. He saw familiar faces and nodded gravely to each one, the way people do at funerals. An old friend whispered, You look very sharp. He whispered back, We must honour the dead.

Then the drums started. The bride danced in.

Uncle Dele froze. He looked at his black suit, looked at the colourful guests, and looked at the door. Before he could escape, the MC grabbed the microphone. And we welcome our special guest, Uncle Dele, who has come all the way in mourning for his bachelorhood!

The hall exploded. The groom himself came to shake his hand and said, Sir, thank you for burying my single life.

Uncle Dele danced at that wedding in his funeral suit. He says it is the best-dressed mistake of his life, and till today the family calls him the widower of bachelorhood.

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