WARRI WANDERER 3

Part 3 The wedding proper was a kaleidoscope of colors and ancient fashion sense. My uncle practically bullied us into getting ready early so as not to miss any aspect of the festivities. When we were well washed and oiled, we gathered around the sitting room for the ancient ritual to begin. This precise practice dated back to when my ancestors used to acquire antelopes and other bush livestock using the expertise of their hands and a few well landed cudgels. It was as old as the ancient Indian practice of body painting and pipe smoking and was just as essential. Ladies and gentle girls, allow me to introduce you to ‘wrapper tying’. (Smiling sheepishly.) Hey! Before you go all out commonizing (oyinbo!) this unpublicized ancient ritual, I would have you know that my ancestors (bless their alcohol consuming souls.) were die hard wrapper tiers who fought neighboring villages and unruly clans just to keep this ancient practice intact. Anyway sha, we all gathered in the sitting room and stared at my uncle as he stared at the six yards of patterned material he was about to give life to. He bit his lips thoughtfully as he contemplated the best way to utilize the prints to give it maximum exposure. Each wrapper receiver was given a string of commands, not unlike any army general would give. A series of body turns and twists, belly tuck- ins and waist adjustments and finally it was done! My eyes watered as i became excessively emotional at my very first wrapper experience. I studied myself in the mirror and came face to face with my lost ancestry. Here I was all these years thinking I was hip and modern and just by trying out one attire, all that urban hippy swagger went down the drain. I agree, I am a villager at heart.