First Gentleman with Wilson Orhiunu
Email: babawill2000@gmail.com Twitter: @Babawilly
Far from being a trivial aspect of human life to be frowned upon by ‘serious-minded’ people, studying parties can be more rewarding than bagging an MBA in an Ivy League school, so long as one is sober enough for the informal lectures. Nothing separates people like a guest list. Few are called and fewer make the high table.
A party is akin to a partition being made in the society to create a group. This group has members with features that set them apart. The uniqueness of their distinguishing factors is celebrated by way of dress codes and flamboyant speech. The social assembly of a party is one of the best avenues for any subset of society to shine and feel good about itself.
One could read books about people for days on end and gain some knowledge about them. However, attendance at a party tells you everything you want to know.
The exact method by which guest lists are populated cuts to the core of our basic human thought processes. It goes beyond family, friends and loved ones. Some people will never forgive you for not inviting them to the feast till they die. By being able to live with that you are telling them in no uncertain terms that they just don’t matter to you. The ego plays a large part in who is called in to grace a social event. Some people by their presence at the ball tells the host that they have arrived (or at least have departed the land of hardships).
Hardcore enemies are not invited if it can be helped. They may slip cyanide into your wine. Some classes of enemies might be invited just to ‘pepper dem’. Celebrants keen on ‘social revenge’ make grand entrances in ‘how do you like me now’ attire and make sure they walk past their haters with the best foot forward.
Debtors avoid inviting creditors because it is not easy to dance shouting ’30 billion in the account ooo’ and swinging a champagne bottle when the guy who could re-possess your cars, house and wardrobe is dancing next to you and dressed in less flashy attire.
A feast is meant for merry and there is nothing on this planet as sweet as mass-produced merriment. Parties have very important people on the guest list; the people who were paid to come. These are the professionals who have made it a life mission to make others feel good. The make-up artist, the musicians and DJs, the comedians, caterers, hall décor practitioners, the hair and gele specialists and paparazzi are all there to spice things up for the chosen few on the guest list.
The event planners, stylists, tailors and printers would have been hard at work long before the party date.
It is not really a great party unless the great voices say it was so the next day. To ensure good reporting, the journalists and bloggers must have access to the red carpet. At the beginning when everyone is no more than four hours after a shower and one hour after makeup. Fresh and hot like ‘today’s bread’ poses are struck which the many uninvited people will mull over long after the jollof rice has digested.
Like it was with Cinderella and her shoes, the guests all know that there is a time limit to looking good. Once the sweat starts to drip the face painting begins to falter.
A party might last for three hours while the uninvited might spend five hours reading magazines and watching short tantalising clips of what happened.
For some, these pictures of the well-dressed are inspirational. From the common pictures of birthdays and cakes with no candles we see on social media to the biggest and grandest balls known to man; the wedding ball, we all love to see people out in their clean shoes all under two months of age.
‘I too will star at my own ball’ many promise themselves. Growing up in Lagos, (congested and cemented Surulere) the ultimate social statement at the time was blocking the street for your party. Nothing tells your neighbours you have arrived better than having Sunny Ade or Ebenezer Obey sing your praises to your neighbours who all had to park in the other street for a day. Naija musicians can sing a man into delirium causing his ego to swell beyond his capital. Then he makes it rain hard cash!
I grew up during the oil boom when people were known to throw parties only to be half way into the party before realising they had not decided on what the party was about. Aso ebi, take-away and souvenirs are the buzz words. Some guests who did not make the guest list instigated the coinage of that phrase mo gbo mo ya meaning I heard the music and turned up.
Street parties meant that the one who came into cash did not have a mansion with grounds large enough to accommodate his band and guests, so he spilled over into the streets. This practice has been banned in Lagos now but those in gated communities can do as they please if the street gives them permission.
There is nothing that does not happen at parties. Jobs can be got and lost, wives can be met and lost and water can turn into wine. It just depends on who is on the guest list. Pickpockets, freelance photographers, money changers and the odd drug dealer love to sneak into parties with lax security or ones hosted by drug dealers themselves.
The physician will not exsanguinate the patient to know how much sodium is in his blood and neither would the chef drink the whole pot of stew to ascertain the saltiness. Sampling is the name of the game and a rocking party is a sample of society. Lessons in how society operates are the key to living successfully in any society.
