It’s a pareeeeeee! II (Burials)
For a whole week, nothing happened, no Ologi, no Alakara, nothing! Even the women who run mini supermarkets on my street were nowhere to be found … I got so desperate that I had to ‘import’ pap from my mom’s ‘adugbo’. By the end of that week I was going around bleary eyed because of all the noise, it was a full fledged jamboree … a minute of silence for the souls of the departed chickens, goats and cows.
I was so annoyed I couldn’t get my regular dose of ogi that I totally ignored the party, I pretended I didn’t know what was going on, which was pretty easy because I assumed that nobody noticed my absence, practically everybody was there, why would my absence be noticed and then …
“Anti Ayo!!! Where have you been?” a loud voice yelled from behind me, I turned around to see Mama Yinka, the woman who sells me kerosene.
“Mama Yinka, how are you?” I yelled back, “Gen-gen! You are all kacked up o, me I like this material you’re wearing, and the style na waya, this your gele sef, o ga o!” I also noticed that her bleached skin is yellower than usual, “So where are you off to this beautiful day?” I said
“That’s why I called you now, where have you been? We’ve not seen you at all this week.” She said obviously displeased she’s not seen me
“Me ke? When I’ve been looking for you all over the place, I ran out of kerosene a couple of days ago.” She looked at me pityingly, clapped twice and hissed
“Mchew. You’re not serious o anti Ayo, don’t you know that Pa XYZ who lives in that red house died?” I’m honestly sick of being told this
“We have been burying him during the week.” She said as if that explains everything
“So I’m not supposed to cook…” I said, this was a new one on me. She burst into laughter and locked up her shop.
“E woo, you these alakowe people sha, we are going for the shursh service now, when I return I’ll send some kerosene to you through Yinka.” She said waving at me… I am still trying to figure out why people who have so little waste so much.
By the time I got to my house about 5more people had hailed me “Anti Ayo! Where have you been? Aren’t you coming to church for the ceremony?” and many more questions meant to stir my conscience about my social responsibility … to be at the burial party…
Anyway sha, that’s the beginning of my romance with parties in my adugbo. In the past three years I’ve been able to deduce that the success of a party is measured by the following:
a) How many people attended the party? Woe is you if only a few people attended your party … people must attend from near and far, including relatives living at Fiditi, Igbeti, Igbo Eleerin etcetera who you only see at burials and child naming ceremonies. Of course how you guys are related has to be really hazy and of course they must stay for two weeks to ‘help’ you clear up the mess.
b) Who was on the bandstand? Is it Igi sekele, Taye Paso, Gigi N’jake Sarafa, Ayinla Koroko(now don’t ask me what these names mean, ‘cos I don’t know!)
c) How much was ‘sprayed’ on the celebrants by the guests, how much was ‘sprayed’ on the musician? And how much got into the pockets of the people in the ‘adugbo’
d) The amount of amala, gbegiri, ewedu and deep fried meat that was made available to the guests (now this is the most important part of the whole thing) so they can ‘je aje’yo, a o tun bu lo’le’ (that is eat in and take away)… a minute of silence for the souls of dearly departed …goats, cows and shikin!
I was so annoyed I couldn’t get my regular dose of ogi that I totally ignored the party, I pretended I didn’t know what was going on, which was pretty easy because I assumed that nobody noticed my absence, practically everybody was there, why would my absence be noticed and then …
“Anti Ayo!!! Where have you been?” a loud voice yelled from behind me, I turned around to see Mama Yinka, the woman who sells me kerosene.
“Mama Yinka, how are you?” I yelled back, “Gen-gen! You are all kacked up o, me I like this material you’re wearing, and the style na waya, this your gele sef, o ga o!” I also noticed that her bleached skin is yellower than usual, “So where are you off to this beautiful day?” I said
“That’s why I called you now, where have you been? We’ve not seen you at all this week.” She said obviously displeased she’s not seen me
“Me ke? When I’ve been looking for you all over the place, I ran out of kerosene a couple of days ago.” She looked at me pityingly, clapped twice and hissed
“Mchew. You’re not serious o anti Ayo, don’t you know that Pa XYZ who lives in that red house died?” I’m honestly sick of being told this
“We have been burying him during the week.” She said as if that explains everything
“So I’m not supposed to cook…” I said, this was a new one on me. She burst into laughter and locked up her shop.
“E woo, you these alakowe people sha, we are going for the shursh service now, when I return I’ll send some kerosene to you through Yinka.” She said waving at me… I am still trying to figure out why people who have so little waste so much.
By the time I got to my house about 5more people had hailed me “Anti Ayo! Where have you been? Aren’t you coming to church for the ceremony?” and many more questions meant to stir my conscience about my social responsibility … to be at the burial party…
Anyway sha, that’s the beginning of my romance with parties in my adugbo. In the past three years I’ve been able to deduce that the success of a party is measured by the following:
a) How many people attended the party? Woe is you if only a few people attended your party … people must attend from near and far, including relatives living at Fiditi, Igbeti, Igbo Eleerin etcetera who you only see at burials and child naming ceremonies. Of course how you guys are related has to be really hazy and of course they must stay for two weeks to ‘help’ you clear up the mess.
b) Who was on the bandstand? Is it Igi sekele, Taye Paso, Gigi N’jake Sarafa, Ayinla Koroko(now don’t ask me what these names mean, ‘cos I don’t know!)
c) How much was ‘sprayed’ on the celebrants by the guests, how much was ‘sprayed’ on the musician? And how much got into the pockets of the people in the ‘adugbo’
d) The amount of amala, gbegiri, ewedu and deep fried meat that was made available to the guests (now this is the most important part of the whole thing) so they can ‘je aje’yo, a o tun bu lo’le’ (that is eat in and take away)… a minute of silence for the souls of dearly departed …goats, cows and shikin!
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