Fashion, food & FALSE HAIR
ON MONDAY, October 1, Nigerians in Jamaica observed their Independence Day with a reception at the residence of the Nigerian high commissioner to Jamaica, Belize, and Haiti and the Dominican Republic.
One of the things I looked forward to seeing was the fashion, and I was not disappointed. Nigerians and guests alike had gone to dazzle. It was such a thrill to see people in outfits that were so full of vibrancy, betraying their fashion sensibilities. And the brief downpour that came just as twilight approached could not cramp their style.
From the headpieces, to the shoes, to the accessories, there was so much artistry, diversity and flair. And the women had nothing over the men. A bonus came by way of a fashion show in which Nigerians in traditional outfits strutted on the catwalk with Saint International models, who showcased fashion from various Nigerian ethnic groups.
However, the anticipation for the food was not high at all. My relationship with food is not very good. And at this stage in my life, if I could divorce myself from food, I would. Yet, there was a lot of food at those celebrations, and my taste buds would have rioted if I have not sated them, so I let them have their way. They thoroughly enjoyed the food, especially the reddish rice.
Musical entertainment for the evening was provided mainly by a band from Pembroke Hall High School. The lead female singer, who was briefly accompanied by Christopher Martin, has a dynamism that belies her age. The lead male singer also gave a good account of himself. And the evening would not have been complete if the colourful Igbo women dancers had not got a chance to show off their moves.
Near to the end of the event, I saw two young women stuffing some kola nuts (bizzy) into their bags. The nuts were there for the taking as they are quite popular
with Nigerians.
When I saw them taking the nuts, I got an idea to get some myself as I love ‘bizzy tea’, not for the caffeine I heard it contains, but for the taste. As I reached the table where the young women and a young man, not Nigerians, were, I greeted them. The young woman with her back turned to me wore a ‘ponytail’. In turning around when she heard me behind her, she flashed the ponytail in a sort of faux glamorous way.
The next thing I knew, the ponytail struck me with a force that tore my reading glasses from my face. The glasses fell on to the wet grass. She did not realise what had happened until I exclaimed that no one move lest they step on to my glasses. It was dark, and so, phone flashlights were turned on.
In a few minutes, a friend of mine found the glasses, and by then, a smile was on everybody’s face. The young lady with the ponytail and I exchanged some pleasantries. I was sarcastic, but she didn’t pick it up. If she had, she would have realised how much I hate false hair and that her knocking of my ‘false eyes’ from my face was another reason to.
Back home, I went straight to the laptop to view the pictures. And something struck me. I did not take any pictures of the food (outside of the kola nuts). I also forgot to take pictures of the ‘horse mane’ that nearly blinded me. Of fashion, false hair, food and forgetfulness. It was an evening to remember.