The sweetest wedding I ever saw is the one I never attended. I was not invited anyway. It is not like I have been to too many weddings anyway. Three actually. Blame the cynic in me.
Not that there were formal invites then. You came if you could. This, after all, was the Kenya of the 1970s, when we were still one, before bouncers and screeching women started arriving outside the church towing a brood of dishevelled kids to disrupt the shifty-eyed groom’s nuptials.