WARRI WANDERER...

Warri 10th November 2011 Part 1 No one told me that the renowned Warri kingdom wasn’t a village. I had conjured up all kinds of detailed imaginations of street urchins littering the well grown bush paths and half naked village beauties adding color to the thatch- roofed landscape. It was not to be. It was every inch like Gidi. The same hurriedly assembled street arrangements, the same screaming street hawkers and unruly motorists and most shocking, the same ‘wazo’ collecting ‘boys in black’ holding up traffic. There was not one traditionally attired person in sight. It was a spectrum of modernized costumery (hope that oyinbo exists o!). I, being a Gidi soldier quickly surveyed the scenery and blended in with the locals. The traditional wedding which was the reason I left the familiar sanctity of my beloved Las Gidi was a blitz of faces and attires. I was introduced to about twenty relatives that I had never seen before and the exercise made my head ache as I tried unsuccessfully to remember their names and family hierarchy designation. It was a daunting task. Luku was the son of a third cousin who was the sister of my daddy’s second brother from another mother while Yerure was the last daughter of uncle Sunday’s elder brother’s second wife. I quickly zoned out after about the seventh introduction and put my mind on neutral for the rest of the introduction ritual. Who wouldn’t?