And So My Wallflower Days Begin...
Saturday October 1st was yet another Independence day for my dear country Nigeria. At 45 she has been a dutiful wife, typical of the continent, taking all sorts of battering and abuses, but still holding her head high, hanging tight and hoping for a happier future.
In the normal Nigerian tradition of celebrating anything, including funerals, I joined the bandwagon and attended a party in Charlotte. Yes, I was in Charlotte again and ok so I really didn't mean to wish death on anyone (heard of metaphors), I love and appreciate everyone I know in Charlotte like I love my brothers and sisters, I was just upset that I had to vent. Having said that though, I still don't like Charlotte.
But back to that Nigerian party, turns out the organizer wasn't who I assumed it would be. Turned out to be some juvenile, under 21 junior eagles type and that made me highly irritated because of all things I actually went to go and shop for green and white outfit, when I could have just worn T-shirt and jeans and rolled out in my usual I don't give a rats attitude. I mean I wanted to slap my self twice for that.
Meanwhile, I amazed myself when I didn't dance until the very last song, and that was because it was Awilo, the only African song they played. How can you have a Nigerian Independence party, that's supposed to be an appreciation of Nigerian culture, without Fela? Haba!! As in really, I wanted to choke someone, because I made an effort to come out, something I've kinda put an end to. The funny thing though was looking in disgust and brows turned up at some of the young girls, the ones in college, backing it up to dudes, simulating moves meant for the bedroom, rumping and grinding and just praying to God that I did not look that way back then way back when I used to be wild and crazy. Oh God please!!! I would hope I did all that 'tastefully' with some level of class and decorum, because what I saw was close to soft porn. But then again, perceptions are relatively subjective so I am sure some guys were enjoying the view. Not to sound judgmental or anything, but I guess you get to a certain phase in life when you just look back and you think to yourself, what in the hell was I thinking when I did that, or say 'been there, done that, ain't hot'. Perhaps I am at that phase, where I am now looking in from the outside and being very, if not overtly, cynical.
But the unfortunate part is that I think I have become my worst nightmare, a 'blahddy' wallflower. You know the ones, in Nigerian parties, that make you wanna barf. The ones that don't want to break a sweat, that stand around with their nose turned up, eyeing every chick that passes by and scoping every bloke in the room, and once in a while hating. The ones that take up space, crossing their legs and bench warming as if they don't have chairs in their house(stole that line). The ones that sip on the same drink you saw them with 4 hours ago (like I was with my water). The ones that make you go, 'Abeg! Abeg! Who the hell does she think she is'. Yes and much to my chagrin, I was officially inducted into the wall flowers club, the senior sisters Inc. I am not sure how I got to this point, did one of those guest pastors in church cast out those dancing demons or am I just getting OLD!!! I know I was thinking about going back to my 'being a snob' days, because i think I am a bit to friendly that people take it for granted sometimes, but I doubt that can ever happen. I mean really... this is Adaure we are talking about.
I remember, last summer, when my friends and I would hit up Walt's African party at Abbysinnia in Raleigh, every Friday and Saturday night. We killed the dance floor with the latest Makossa moves till 3am and still made it to church on Sunday. I kinda miss those days, but thinking about it, I don't think I have that energy or motivation anymore. I just wanna chill and sip on my 'water on the rocks.' I guess I need to just find another social outlet because I don't think i'll be able to stand myself as a wallflower. Ooh... an idea just came up, I think i'll be the butterfly amongst the wallflower ( i'm killing it with my profound metaphors). Yes, that's what i'll be, since I know I can't do the dance floor thing, it seems a bit too juvenile; guess that's what quarter-life crisis would do to you. Having said that, 'slacker wallies' better watch out now, cos this butterfly is coming to a town near you!