Asoebi

Photo credit:asoebibella

In December last year I had three weddings in one day. One was a childhood friend, the second a dear colleague and the third the daughter of an older friend I met in a club I belong to.

The three weddings were important to me. My childhood friend's wedding would have a lot of our other friends in attendance from all over the country and I knew we that we were going to go wild. This was a lady we all loved and who had scared us all these years with her genuine preference to remain single.  

Hearing that she was getting married was not enough we had to be there to witness it and share in her joy. I knew without  a doubt that I had to end my day there.

Ayo was a dear colleague and one of the nicest guys ever. He has a smile for everyone and an extremely good sense of humour. I wouldn't miss his wedding for all the udara in the world. (Udara is agbalumo and I'm an addict)

The third wedding was a very high profile one in a big hotel and with an entry pass. I generally try to avoid very big weddings because the jollof rice is never enough.

The rice is rationed stylishly and packed with uninteresting vegetables labelled garnish.

Then the chicken is often tastelessly dry or dipped in one funny sauce or the other. The rich live in their own world of eating healthy and very little so asking for a second helping is usually a taboo. Lol! I'm not saying that this was the case in this particular high society wedding; I'm just speaking generally.

I had it all figured out; do the church for the high profile, then meet the reception at Ayo's and end up at My girl's. 

I got to this church on Lagos Island and as soon as I got into the church I knew I made a mistake.

The colour of the day was blue but I had on red which was an asoebi (uniform)for my ultimate wedding of the day.

From the way the first woman I saw looked at me I knew I shouldn't have bothered. The "were you invited?" kind of look. The second look was "how could you disrespect the couple" kind of look. 

I noticed the looks but Amaka the daughter of Ferdinand Nweke Eke was completely unperturbed. I asked for the event brochure, found a good spot and participated fully in the Anglican service.

I was determined to stay till the end and even join in the pictures. But alas, it wasn't meant to be. I got a frantic call from home; I had locked le beau out of the house. He had asked me to leave the key somewhere but I forgot, I left in a hurry and as I hit the 3rd mainland bridge I knew that one wedding had to give.

I was so sad but the love of my life was patiently waiting for me to let him into his home.

I left for Chinenye's wedding afterards:;the fun and laughter more than compensated for missing Ayo's wedding.

I could identify with almost everyone and no I wasn't out of place. I did not only wear  the colour of the day; it was the asoebi which entitled me to all sorts of goodies. I felt at home as friends cheered when I walked in.

Two things now, what is the origin of this asoebi that has turned women into beggars and wannabes who will do anything to belong by buying and wearing an asoebi.

Why can't we wear what we have or choose to wear to weddings in peace? Must there be a colour code or uniform.

To me it difficult to keep up with. First they are expensive and then it encourages an unhealthy competition among the women  who  battle for the most stylish

The next is that nothing beats a gathering of friends. While I was a total stranger in the first wedding, I was a local champion in the next and also in my full element.

My next mission will be a movement tagged " asoebi must go" what do you think?