My friend, ZV, called me a week after his trip to Nigeria for a mutual friend’s daughter’s wedding, which I couldn’t attend due to work. We agreed to meet at our usual spot, the Suicide Chicken place near his house. “They make the best hot, spicy chicken wings in Canada,” he often boasts, and I must agree.
We met, and he ordered his usual pint of Guinness. I, on the other hand, opted for a bottle of water and caffeine-free green tea. “Kilon se wo bobo yi ke?” (what’s going on with you this guy?) he asked, wondering what was up with my drink choice. “Nothing, bro. Just taking a permanent break from alcohol.” I replied. He teased, “You’re just on holiday. You’ll come back.” I laughed and said, “Get behind me, Satan.” We then ordered 20 pieces of suicide chicken.
“So, how’s the family, bro?” I asked. “We’re good. Our youngest decided not to pursue medicine and will study music instead. She believes she can heal more souls with music. I gave her my blessings and told her to give it her all,” he said. I nodded, “I agree 100%. But how was the wedding?”
“It’s a long story,” he began. “You know TY is our close friend. He really wanted us all there, but I understand you couldn’t make it.” “Yes, he always insists we shouldn’t miss such events,” I said.
“It started with the aso ebi. He used to be against buying aso ebi for parties, but for his daughter’s wedding, he changed his stance and gave us two options of clothes: one for $1,000 and another for $500. I have never believed in the aso ebi craze and wahala. The silent and indirect pressure to buy drives me crazy. TY’s wife would often mention that most of our friends had already purchased, while insisting there was no pressure to buy. My wife calls it an excellent marketing pitch. Nowadays, there are different categories of aso ebi for the same event and this was no exception. My wife, who wasn’t keen on it, eventually and reluctantly agreed to the $500 one, reminding me that this was a fundraising exercise and that she was surprised I fell for it,” he recounted. “Well, people can change their minds, and you weren’t forced to buy it,” I noted. “Lawyer, you can defend anyone,” he said sarcastically.
He continued, “My wife and I flew to Nigeria. TY promised us a great time. He often reminded us that his daughter was marrying into a prominent family. The wedding was filled with top politicians, business leaders, military, and police personnel. It was a true society wedding,” he said. “It sounds like a great event,” I remarked.
“The reception was packed with even more prominent figures. At the entrance, they couldn’t find our names despite our RSVP and aso ebi. We finally got in but were seated far from the action. The VIP tables had all kinds of drinks and food, while we struggled to get served. It was frustrating,” he said.
“Thank God you weren’t left stranded at the entrance,” I added. “Inside, the VIPs were treated like royalty while we were neglected. After an hour, we were finally given water, soft drinks and the ever present and supportive puffpuff. The people sitting next to our table were being served all sorts of food because, as I learnt, they bribed the servers. I was shocked,” he said. “Sounds like a tough experience. I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
“Eventually, TY and his wife came around and saw we hadn’t been fed. They made sure we got some food, but it was fried rice which I generally don’t like, as they had run out of other dishes. Despite multiple efforts, our table was not served any alcohol, which the VIP and others that had contacts or bribed the servers had in excess. My wife was happy about my experience because she reckoned it was God’s way of telling me to not attend every party I get invited to at the expense of my health, finance, safety and dignity,” he said. “That’s rough,” I sympathized.
“I was disappointed. The trip and the wedding were costly, and it felt like the most expensive fried rice I’ve ever had. The event hall was overcrowded, noisy and loud. I felt for the young couple as it was more of a wedding for the parents and their friends. The celebrity MC was terrible, as he kept talking over the music, interrupting the flow of the couple’s dance, ” he said. “At least you had chicken with your rice,” I tried to joke. “Not funny, JB. You were lucky not to attend. Unlike some people, you and I are never angry if we don’t get invited to events notwithstanding our relationships with the celebrants. I had to order good food and a bottle of red wine after we got to the hotel. Thank God I am not a poor man. Our friend, knowing he wouldn’t treat us well, should not have invited us,” he concluded, calling for another Guinness.
In conclusion, it’s important to ensure that all guests feel valued and appreciated, regardless of their status. Our friend ZV’s experience serves as a reminder of the significance of hospitality and fairness in social events. Treating all attendees with respect and care is essential to maintaining strong and healthy relationships. If one cannot treat guests well at events, then they should not be invited.
NB: Johnson Babalola, a Canada based lawyer, leadership consultant and corporate emcee, is a public affairs analyst.
