The Day My Outfit Betrayed Me – A True Green Shame cc-wk4

So let me tell you how I got humbled and humiliated at a wedding by a piece of cloth that I should’ve been buried since the time of President Goodluck Jonathan. Yeah, that's me and you might be wondering how I got here.

There was this wedding, right? And you know how Nigerians take wedding colors like an exam? I asked my mom and my sister what the color was, and mom was like, "Emerald," and my sister was like "Jungle Mantis green" Like which color is Emerald? It was the first time I heard there was a color like that, but since my sister already mentioned Green, I knew the color was just a simple green.

The dress code was green, not emerald green or jungle mantis o, just "green." I looked through my cloth like a desperate student looking for their ticket to free food, you won't understand unless you are a student or have been a student in the university. The only green I had was one ancestral Ankara green. I can't even remember the history of the green but I was glad I had one, This was a cloth I hadn’t worn in ages, this was a cloth before the ages of the world greatest pandemic, now I am feeling like an old man. Heheheh.

It looked tired, like a cloth that was about to say "Please let me rest" but I thought, “Just one last time, I promise you I would let you rest.” Big mistake.

On the main day of the wedding, I ironed it, used some perfume, and stepped out like I was going to collect the bride price myself. Got to the venue, catwalking to my friends like I owned the wedding. I even waved at one or two aunties. You know those proud wedding things, so the waiters would know I was an important guest. Sharp right.

>Image generated using meta AI.

Then it happened. I bent to pick something up from the floor and something had happened without me knowing.

My friend Oche, God bless his brutal honesty, called me aside very fast like someone that was about to tell me a secret that could scatter the wedding. He looked at me with the face of someone about to break bad news.

“Omo, why you wear cloth wey don tear for back?”

Fear gripped me first. Excuse me? I started spinning like a grandma who got a good news, trying to check my own butt in public. Lo and behold, the butt side of my cloth had a big tear and my boxer was showing. The hole in the cloth was wide enough for a rat to pass in and out.

I had been parading the wedding like a peacock, not knowing my backside was doing open invitation.

At that point, I just wanted the floor to open and swallow me. The worst part? I had hugged people. I had danced. People had probably taken videos. If you check TikTok, maybe I’m already trending as “The Dancing Green Backdoor Uncle.”

Anyways, I learnt something that day: When your outfit says "Please let me died", you better listen to them and, also to invest in mirrors that show your back, or friends that check it before you leave the house... I will never forget that day.

Thanks for reading.