–Decorations ,Wrappers, Waistlines, and Wahala
Dust and silk
The village square was a riot of colors. A sea of Ankara, lace, and wrappers flapped in the breeze like flags of a vibrant country. Women were everywhere—sewing, gossiping, trying on gele headwraps, arguing with tailors. Even the children had been recruited to carry baskets and thread needles. Someone's radio played Lucky Dube in the distance.
The entire village was preparing for the arrival of the mysterious visitor—this "fine, rich, young" man whose mansion had become the topic of breakfast, lunch, and dinner conversation.
Amaka and Ngozi had been roped into the traditional dance practice. They weren't complaining—at least not too much—because it beat pounding yam in the sun. Barefoot and wearing their wrapper tied tight, they twisted their waists to the beat of the talking drum.
Until Ngozi started laughing mid-step.
"Amaka," she whispered, "See Uju's waist! Why is she dancing like she has pepper under her armpit?"
Amaka turned to see Uju doing something that could best be described as a combination of chicken-scratch and electric shock.
Amaka snorted. "It's not even waist she's shaking, it's kidney."
Ngozi burst out laughing. "Let her not scatter her spine for husband she hasn't met yet."
Uju shot them a glare but missed a beat. The instructor clapped. "Uju! Focus!"
When the drummers paused for water, everyone broke into groups. Amaka and Ngozi collapsed on the bench, panting.
"I swear I'm tired," Ngozi said, wiping her face with her wrapper. "Once I reach house, straight to bathroom, then food, then sleep."
Amaka nodded. "Me too. But mama will still send me to stream. If I don't fetch water, I'll sleep with slap."
As they sighed, three girls sauntered past them like hens with swollen pride. One of them, Chinaza, stopped and folded her arms.
"So you people too are dancing?" Chinaza said, lips curled.
Ngozi raised her brow. "Did they write your name on it?"
Chinaza ignored the jab. "Once that man sees me, it's marriage straight. My mama has already made arrangements. I'm wearing gold and wine lace. You?"
Amaka smirked. "You people are shameless. He's coming to build companies, not pick wife like fufu in nylon."
Her friends giggled behind her.
Chinaza hissed. "You think he'll pick a broomstick like you? Someone that looks like akpu that fell in dustbin?"
Ngozi shot back, "And you look like cow with k-legs that escaped from the abattoir!"
Laughter exploded.
Amaka stood up. "You're planning your wedding without the groom's face. Hope he knows you smell like fried snail in hot weather."
Chinaza moved forward. "You this Amaka, I will deal with you. When I become his wife, you'll beg to fetch water near my gate!"
"Your gate?" Ngozi laughed. "You mean the one by pit latrine?"
They kept shouting back and forth until the drummers beat their sticks again. "All dancers, come back!"
Amaka dusted her wrapper. "Let's go jare. Leave them. Their insult no dey touch skin."
Ngozi muttered, "But it dey smell."
Both of them giggled as they returned to their positions, still laughing as the drums started again.
Something big was coming.
And village girls were already going to war over a man whose name they hadn't even heard yet.
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