We left pretty close to 8 AM and Bunmi and Dayo came to pick me up. Bunmi initially drove to drop herself off at church. I make this point because Bunmi is learning how to drive and Dayo, as most driving teachers are, was a bit concerned about how Bunmi was driving. Being a passenger in the car, Bunmi drove very well and safely. I discovered that most of the honking is a courtesy to let others know that you are coming esp around corners with lots of blind spots; sometimes, clearly, the honking is for the get the #*&! out of my way. For other drivers to know that Bunmi is learning how to drive, Dayo placed the letter L in front of their car's license plate; this is common practice. Dayo said this was to alert others to "take it easy" on an inexperienced driver. I asked Dayo when Bunmi was going to take her driving test and he sort of laughed - what driving test? Apparently, you only need to get a driving “license” once you get a car for a fee but there is no required or offered driving test. This explains a lot.
Here is the L to designate driver learning how to drive.
Our drive there was pretty uneventful and traffic was light as most Nigerians are in church on Sundays. We listened to hip hop and Yoruba gospel music on the way. As I had described before - the hawkers, ppl running across the high ways, weaving, and massive potholes - held true but our drive only took about 1.5 hours. This was amazing considering the 3+ hours when we had driven from Lagos to Ibadan when I first arrived. On the way back, we weren’t so fortunate and got caught in a bit of traffic and got pulled over once where Dayo was threatened by a police officer at a security checkpoint for a bribe. Still no bribes given. The police officer even asked me if I knew Dayo and was okay; what I wanted to say to the police officer was that I would be okay if he would just let us go! I’m beginning to find the police and their blatant asking for bribes a bit annoying.
Here is one traffic incident that we encountered on the way home. Keep in mind, we are driving on the appropriate side of the highway.
The first thing that came to mind to Dayo was – was this robbers versus a traffic accident? Dayo yelled out to another driver (that yes, was driving on the wrong side of the road) and the driver confirmed an accident. After battling it out with the vehicles driving on the wrong side of road, we did discover a large semi hauling materials had turned over on the other side of the highway and cars started passing the medium to bypass this accident. Not too much later, we saw another accident with 3 large trucks/semis, this time on our side of the road. No wonder road traffic accidents are a major source of morbidity and mortality in Nigeria.
Back to the party - I was all gussied up for today’s event. I wore my short African print dress with a cardigan. Bunmi fixed up my gele. I even wore pantyhose (to deflect those pesky mosquitoes) and heels. The heels proved to be short lived as within 10 seconds of stepping out of the car to walk to the church, I tripped and fell. I skinned my right knee which I haven’t done since I was like 6 years old. I changed my shoes to flats which I had brought with me I guess anticipating something like this or just painful feet from wearing heels. I’m not sure anyone except Dayo (who saw me fell) noticed my skinned knee and run in my pantyhose all day (as based on my insect bites on the face, people seem to bring up these type of things). Perhaps they were all curiously interested in seeing how the oyibo wore a gele!
This Yoruba Christian church service was spirited with lots of dancing (we formed a dancing line behind the birthday celebrant), singing, and of course praying. Since my arrival in Nigeria, I have noticed that Nigerians in general are very observant to their religion, either Christianity or Islam. In fact, almost all friends I’ve made have inquired about my religious preferences and most Christians have invited me to their Sunday church service or weekly bible study. As not a Christian, I felt this church service to be quite inviting and not intimidating at all.
We had arrived a bit late and joined in as the minister gave his sermon. About midway through, the church transitioned into a focused prayer for the birthday celebrant celebrating her 60th birthday. There is an introduction of the birthday celebrant and her friends and family form a dancing line behind her to the beat of a lively Yoruba Christian song. There are specific prayers esp for the celebrant and the celebrant said her own prayer as well. I was hesitant to join the dancing line behind the birthday celebrant but another churchgoer and attendee to the birthday party tapped my arm to have me join in.
One thing that was quite striking was that the churchgoers were in a variety of dress – some traditional Nigerian dresses with gele (both men and women) and some in Western dress. The Nigerian dresses were very colorful with many women wearing fushia gele which I learned was one of the official colors of the birthday party (more on this later). The men dressed in complete Nigerian attire looked quite grand with their overcoat of sorts (Dr. Sola was wearing one). There was an offering (tithe) part of the service where churchgoers make their rounds up to the front to place them in a basket and the minister also took time to welcome those new to the church, attending for the first time. Dayo stood up to be welcomed; I was shy and didn’t want to attract more attention (as I was the only oyibo) and stayed seated. There was a part of the service where the church’s radio station made announcements and played music. What I thought I heard was good old regular rap was indeed rap but Yoruba Christian rap. Nice.
Following the church service, we went back to the celebrant’s house to relax until the reception started at 1 PM. Of course, while we waited, the power went out. Irony of this was that Dr. Sola and I were talking about how I had taken power for granted beforehand. Dr. Sola’s mother’s home had not had power for 10 straight days and had been living off intermittent gent. Now, as you probably can tell, I am very appreciative of power. We arrived with the celebrant at the reception fashionably late at 1:40 PM and I think the festivities started at 2:30 PM.
Here is the invitation. Note the bottom where they make mention of the official colors: fuchsia and silver. Friends and family purchase cloth in one of the colors or in a certain pattern to be made into a gele (or attire) that is worn to the event in solidarity and support of the celebrant. This is also done for Nigerian weddings as well. Emmanuel was so kind to extend an invitation to his wedding (his colors are brown and pink I believe) but I’ll be leaving the day of his wedding. Too bad I’ll have to miss out on the festivities.
Here is the set up of the reception. Note the decorations in the official colors.
Here’s me!
Here is the official program for the reception. Lots of speeches. Dr. Sola and his daughter Dayo (Dayo is both a woman and man name; apparently, many Nigerian names are unisex.) both gave speeches. Lots of rhythmic musical interludes.
Here is the official menu. Apparently the celebrant is a caterer and her catering company catered the event.
Here is what I had:
Here is a springroll. Tasted like an egg roll.
Goat Meat Pepper Soup. Definitely peppery with a variety of goat parts. All in all, pretty flavorful and tasty. Didn’t eat the part that appeared to be goat liver.
Spicy fish with blackened sauce and fried rice and moin moin which is grounded up beans made into a paste. The fish was a very generous piece and tasty. Not spicy at all. My favorite part was the moin moin. First time I had it and it was good! I could have this again in Chicago. The server told me she wasn’t going to clear away my food until I finished it all.
What I found very cool was that the Olopade family all had their clothes for this event made with a matching print fabric. So Dr. Sola is an Olopade and his daughter, nieces, nephews, brothers and sisters also all Olopades all had matching clothes in different designs and styles. The celebrant’s children all had clothes made of another print. For another celebration, the family might pick another print and have new clothes made.
This makes me very excited to get matching clothing made for Eddy and I as when we next attend a Nigerian party in Chicago (which might be a distinct possibility), we can wear our matching outfits so everyone knows who’s family and who I’m with. I think this reflects how important family and unity is in Nigerian culture. The headwear is in fuchsia in support of the celebrant and the colors she has selected. Just by looking at the colors throughout the room, you can tell who is family. Beautiful.
Here are some Olopades.
Here are some more.
Here is Dr. Sola, Dayo and our driver, Mr. Modi.
We are on the dance floor now. Nigerians of all ages definitely got rhythm. Apparently, the celebrant dances and people place money bills on her face and they collect it in a bag sort of like the Filipino money dance or the Greek tradition of throwing money in the air. Later I learned that this is considered illegal (as a sort of defacing money) but still widely practiced.
What I found out is that if anyone else dances, like me, we might get some money too! Here’s Dr. Sola demonstrating how I might get some money (sorry for the blurriness!).
Here is the personalized swag that we left with. (Dayo mentioned how this was a high end birthday celebration; not all Nigerian birthday celebrations are so extravagant).
All in all, this was a great, fun, cultural experience. I’m appreciative that I was able to attend. What I learned is that Nigerians like to party, are generous and religiously focused in their partying and celebrate their age. Whereas other might want to hide their older age, Nigerians celebrate it!
Happy 60th birthday Mrs. Kikelomo Abiodun Abidoye!
One last picture, Ibadan is known for its red roofs – take a look!
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