A Hood Does not Make a Monk.

While they dressed up in the groom’s bedroom, a message came from the ground floor that Thomas’ parents, his other friends and relations had all gone to the church.

   A few minutes afterwards, the two friends, now completely dressed, were out of the room and about to head for the church. It was then that Tunde, who had been fidgety for a while, announced that he was going to the bathroom.

   He had barely gone for about two minutes when Thomas decided to join his friend in the bathroom. Urinating by this time, he felt, was simply a sign of anxiety on the part of both of them. While his friend was using one cubicle, Thomas dashed into the adjoining cubicle, both of which were divided by a thin partition.

   The groom had finished and was about to leave the bathroom when he suddenly heard his friend groan aloud in pain.   

   “I’m in trouble, Thomas.” a nervous Tunde answered. “And it’s a serious trouble.”

   “What trouble…what are you talking about, Tunde?”

   “Thomas, I guess I’ve been infected with an STD…”

   “By STD, you mean a sexually transmitted disease?”

   “Yes…and I guess it’s gonorrhea.”

   “What…oh, my God.”

   For a brief moment, Thomas stared at his friend, not really knowing what to do. Then, he exploded in a mixture of anger and concern.

   “But Tunde, this is bullshit…on my wedding day for God’s sake.”

 “I’m sorry. But…right now, I’m in a terrible pain. I’ve been taking some painkillers. But it appears that I’ll need a much stronger type now.”

   “Alright. But what do we do now?”

   While Thomas was obviously confused by the whole scenario, Tunde pulled up the zipper of his pair of trousers and then straightened up.

   “Is there a doctor’s office around here?”

   Thomas thought briefly before giving an answer.

“Yes. There is a small clinic just a few blocks away from here.”

   Promptly, the two friends descended the stairs and moved briskly down the road. In their haste, it did not occur to either of the two to consider leaving a message with anyone at home.

Neither did they consider the church’s deadline for the wedding.

“By the way, Tunde…” Thomas cast a cursory look at his friend. “Which of the women gave you this disease?”

   “It’s the latest one…Janet.”

   Thomas stared in disbelieve.

   “What…that cute, gorgeous woman?”

   Tunde nodded his head soberly as he responded.

“Who would have expected such a sophisticated professional banker to have a sexually transmitted disease?”

"Alas..." Thomas noted sadly. "A hood does not make a monk..."

 - Excerpts from The Price of Ignorance by Femi Olawole.