Party People

Yoruba people in traditional attire. Image credit: Niyi Fagbemi

The harmattan snuck up on me here in Lagos. Then pounced, sinking both of its teeth into my skin. I really didn't see it coming.

But I probably should have. Because just like in October, I took a trip to Ondo state and the harmattan had already begun to take shape. But it was a much friendlier kind of cold; hazing up the already beautiful landscape. Making the people look just a bit shinier as they lotioned up for the dry season's harmattan.

I went not only to Ondo town again, and it clean, sleepy streets: I went to Idanre, to pay a visit to my hometown for a party.

And I keep thinking about how odd it is that African culture celebrates the death of people who get to live with old age. The party was a burial for an old couple that seemed very lovely.

It was a three-day long affair that opened my eyes to how well-thought out final rites are in my culture. On my first day, I got a phone call from my mother and she told me that the party, and the three-day long affair attached to it would be a great blog post idea.

It never really occurred to me. And when I hung up, I wondered why.

I had already written about my 2019 trip to Idanre. Why not document the follow-up trip, and all of the new insights it could bring.

GOING INTO THE MOUNTAINS

Idanre. A town nestled in the bosom of mountains

If you're new here, let me lay down some cool facts about Idanre

• It is a landlocked beauty filled with some of the most majestic mountains in the world.

• It is my ancestral hometown. Half of my family originates from there, and still live there today.

• It is the location of the famous Idanre hills, one of south-western Nigeria's biggest tourist attractions.

• I didn't grow up there, so a lot of my knowledge and accounts of it are pretty-second hand. So I'm always excited at the chance to see it for myself.

This party was no exception.

I think it was by the second day that I realized the burial wasn't for one person, but an old couple who had died within two months of each other.

Side note: the doctor in me was thinking Takotsubo cardiomyopathy. Literally dying of a broken heart since old people are much less likely to recover from the stress of losing a life partner than younger people.

Okay, back to it.

I'm going to take you on a virtual trip of my time there. What I saw, and some of my thoughts too.

A YORUBA PARTY

There is no party like a Yoruba owambe.

I remember a line from Chimamanda’s novel Half Of A Yellow Sun, where a foreigner was having the major tribes in Nigeria described to him in a nutshell. It described Yoruba people as a jolly lot, and maybe a few words about how much we like parties.

Even as a Yoruba woman who doesn’t like parties too much, I have to admit this is pretty on-point. Just the energy needed to plan, to attend, to cater to a three-day event is astronomical.

And the fact the family of the deceased had enough people show up at the event – I mean, on the last day there were three large canopies full of party people – that shows how dedicated the culture is celebrating. I do admire how wonderful it is that people are able to come together, consistently, to celebrate both small and big wins. And in this case, a loss.

But the effort put into parties isn’t only about having a good time. It is also about sharing aspects of culture that we might not have access to in day-to-day life.

Parties are where you get some of the far-off delicacies you come across only once in a while. Or, even the common food is elevated to its true form – showing you why it had the audacity to become a staple in the first place.

Then, I got to see some traditional dance. Which was truly invigorating.

If I had a video that was clear (because it was shot at night! Sigh) I would absolutely attach it to this video.

But here’s a visual: picture some lovely middle-aged women huddled in a circle trying to out-dance and out-footwork each other. There is someone dutifully ensuring that the money not-being sprayed (ha-ha) is neatly packed away to be shared among… who?

I loved the whole thing, and if I weren’t so shy about dancing in public, I would have joined.

Also, one of my favorite parts about the whole trip was going to a church. I’m not sure I’ve ever been to a Methodist church before but these folks are organized. I loved how the service was put up into neat sections, with a booklet to follow along with the singing. Especially since I didn’t know any of the hymns.

On the final day, we left the party around 7pm, and got back to Akure.

Then stopped for more treats.

The party really never ends!

BEING INSPIRED

I have never left Idanre without being inspired.

Because it is one of the places in south-western Nigeria, where Yoruba customs are still pretty entrenched in how people do life, I get to see a small slice of what life before colonization might have been like.

For example, the old monarch of Idanre died some months ago, and there is a whole process about burying him, and choosing a new king. The town pretty much has to feel that something as changed.

While going to the venue of the party on the third day, we passed by the market and I was told that the market would get a new location soon. The queen would come and choose it herself.

I’m pretty fascinated by all of the process around burying monarchs, so much that I wrote about it in my story The Kinsmen, which got published in print by A Coup of Owls Press. You can order the ebook or print version here. 

Safe to say, some story is definitely going to come out of this.

Customs and folklore are such an important aspect of heritage, and who we are. I often feel upset about how much of it has been lost to our collective consciousness due to colonization.

I can agree that not all of it was healthy, but I don’t believe that all of it deserved to be thrown out.

Baby, bathwater, all of it.

This trip sparked my interest in just what life in a very ancient context might have looked like.

Oh, and Idanre is absolutely not a place stuck in the past. My grand-uncle had the best solar-derived electricity I have ever encountered.

Talk about taking advantage of being in the Sunshine State.

If you enjoyed reading this, I think you’ll also love my story that was a prize winner in the 2023 Welkin Prize for flash fiction.

It is one of my favorite things to have written. Because it is about one of my favorite places to visit.

Give it a read here.

Also, what’s your own relationship with your hometown like? When last did you pay it a visit?

Let me know in the comments!