Last weekend I attended my first Yoruba wedding (to my
recollection) in Nigeria’s ancient Yoruba city named Ibadan, a land where the
whites were very much present back in the day. I was there about 48 hours and
hardly saw anything substantial enough to give an accurate observation, so the
ensuing words are mostly a ‘first glimpse’ experience. I hope to visit this
city again to see the sites and really talk to the people. The city was truly
ancient, and now I wish I had pictures of some of its structures so you’d
witness the eye opening stagnation in development in some areas. I imagine the
white man coming back in 2016, and with jaws ajar, exclaiming, “Wow! These
people haven’t touched a single thing since we left”. Perhaps an exaggeration,
but I bet some parts really haven’t been touched.
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| wedding party |
I live in the East surrounded by mostly Igbos as I, myself,
am one. Nigeria’s civil war was engendered by the desire of the Eastern states,
the Igbos, wanting succession from their fellow Nigerians. The Yorubas dominate
the west, the same corner of Nigeria where the 'New York of Nigeria', Lagos,
sits, jam packed with people, where many Igbos also have established businesses
and enterprises. Historically the Yorubas attained more education, and maybe
still do till date. The Brits had open door policy and many of them traveled
abroad to obtain degrees, so it’s distinctive that a Nigerian who lives in the
UK is most likely a Yoruba. My experience in Ibadan last weekend was colored by
my curiosity to witness how the Yorubas do their weddings, contrasting it to
that of Igbos. It’s often an elaborate ordeal as I learned that Yorubas take
great pride in throwing parties and celebrating occasions. They tend to focus
on parties, celebrations and enjoyment of what they’ve worked for while the pith
of a
typical Igbo man is to grow his
business in order to take care of his woman and family. A favorite aspect of my
trip was traveling with my guys. This was my third state to visit with one and
second with another. Such a fun crew to adventure with, and they know how to
take care of a lady;) Giovanni, as he’s affectionately called, was the only Igbo
man among the groomsmen and he was styling and profiling in his ‘Agbada’, the
traditional Yoruba male attire. I'm sure many more wedding attending will transpire, all across Naija, and I plan to continue on with the tradition of visiting several states and cities in this motherland of ours.
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| Bride & Groom dancing down the aisle at the reception |
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| my two guys |
Last weekend I attended my first Yoruba wedding (to my
recollection) in Nigeria’s ancient Yoruba city named Ibadan, a land where the
whites were very much present back in the day. I was there about 48 hours and
hardly saw anything substantial enough to give an accurate observation, so the
ensuing words are mostly a ‘first glimpse’ experience. I hope to visit this
city again to see the sites and really talk to the people. The city was truly
ancient, and now I wish I had pictures of some of its structures so you’d
witness the eye opening stagnation in development in some areas. I imagine the
white man coming back in 2016, and with jaws ajar, exclaiming, “Wow! These
people haven’t touched a single thing since we left”. Perhaps an exaggeration,
but I bet some parts really haven’t been touched. 
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