The Wedding Parties

This is a real life story of a wedding party that I attended on the same day I watched the unreal much-talked-about comedy The Wedding Party. Coincidence? Let me start with the wedding party of my friend.

The Great Gatsby was the theme of the wedding reception. I had watched the movie but I had to query Google what that theme meant. I wore my fitted blue suit. So fitted I could hardly bend my elbows but only me knew the suffering underneath that sharpness. Having once experienced an endless church wedding service in an Anglican church on that same Broad Street, I chose to go straight to the banquet. Harbour Point. I was too early. Hefty bouncers guarded the entrance. With courtesy and politeness, they bounced me and others from entering. No one enters until church service was over. Security. It was necessary. Before long, more agbadas and geles stepped out of exotic cars. The bouncers yielded. Whoa!!!

As I stepped into the dome, it was as though I was just ushered into the palace of the Al Maktoum of Dubai. The decoration was golden. The artificial flowers spread their silvery feathery petals by each delicately draped round table. The aisle was arched every metre, each wrapped with shiny grey colour chiffons. Each table had glass-made central decoration with complete glasswares and cutlery. Chairs were made from cane. I looked at the couple’s zone and it was heavenly. You would wish that the gravity there be zero so that you could float into Utopia. Masterclass. Lightening was superb. People trooped in. A certain high ranking member of those soon-to-be-armed paramilitary came in with his uniformed envoy. Top professionals. Iyalode Eko. Expensive agbadas and iro and buba in contemporary styles on display instead of Bar Luzman. I saw two dark-haired oyinbo gehls. They were the tallest human beings in the hall. I suppose they had travelled down from the abroad with their lovers who, forgetting how to dance to Nigerian tunes, moved their bodies dysrhythmically. Imagine dancing Disco to Apala. Lol.

Oko and Iyawo came in with pride. Her wedding dress looked customised from Paris. Sparkling silvery embellishment adorned the bodice as the train trailing behind her from somewhere in eternity. Elegant, she looked beautiful and adorable. Mr Ishola (cute and fresh) and his wife danced joyfully up the aisle to their regal chamber. I know they must have discussed their choice of music with the DJ, I felt he could have done better with his playlist to meet up the high standard that was already set in there. Oh yes, that very important part was quick, evenly and adequately served. Food. The waiters didn’t wait till our stomachs grumbled. Dotun, there is one of your friends who I found interesting. She had barely sat down beside me than she started showing her narcissistic tendencies. Selfies, selfies, selfies all the way. Snapchatting and Instagraming herself away. She wore a shine-shine wine gown. If you see her, greet her for me. Tell her she was gorgeously dressed. Tell her I witheld my compliments because she was too busy on her phone.

It was a beautiful thing to see my friend get married in grand style. She used to call me “Oga mi” but surely in this matter, she has become my Oga. Happy Married Life. Wa bi ako. Wa bi abo. Ayo ati Alafia konitan nile yin o. Amin.

After I left that wedding party, I went to see The Wedding Party. It was truly a star studded film. My choice artist of the year Ireti Doyle (Obianuju, one of my favorite Igbo names) was in her stern, no-nonsense, high-class society lady element. Being an un-professional actor myself, I have always coveted her skills. Shola Shobowale came back from screen recess hot and dramatic. She stole the show in the many scenes she featured. RMD was the genius actor he has always been. Uncle Saka made us laugh with his action and little of his words. Ali Baba words were funnier than his acts. It was a blend of creativity and versatility from all the cast. Banky W exemplified this as he switched very well to an actor role. But I must give credit to the director, Kemi Adetiba, who must have done a rigorous job of bringing out a block-buster and box-office performance out of the hiphop star and CEO.

 

Taking a look at the story itself and given that it is purely comedy, the exaggerations and unnecessary childish add-ons are permitted. I don’t think anyone will be talking about family problems at gunpoint. I don’t think for that kind of party someone will bring gbegiri and amala in local iron pots to such reception. Pardon me if I missed how Dozie got to know where Dunni escaped to. Comedy permits all that. Make-believe.

Overall it was funny. Relaxing. Portraying the animosity that may exist among tribes in Nigeria and that could among women. It tells us that women are different, have different love languages and abhor neglect. That packaging matters. That family matters. That we should never give up on love. Enough. Go see it. I rate it 7/10.

And one other thing

I BOUNCED A BOUNCER

I didn’t know bouncers could beg for alms too. From V.I to Leisure Mall, three people approached me for alms that evening. One was a bouncer at Filmhouse. He reached out for a handshake on my way out and asked Chairman how e go be now? I told him Chairman later now. Bounce danu. I don’t want to sound idealistic here. But bouncers asking for tips? Really? Speechless.

Thank you my reader for always reading. I would continue writing interesting, funny and serious opinions with new vigour in the New Year. Wishing you a fantastic ride through 2017. See you again.