Twitter use, @Tha-Mentalist shared his weird Igbo wedding experience on Twitter.

Well, I wouldn't say it was weird; it is probably what happens at Igbo weddings. I didn't even get food at my own maternal cousin's wedding because her mother in law had colonised everything. My dad had to call her to order before we were served

http://www.lailasblog.com/2017/02/this-might-be-weirdest-igbo-wedding.html

It begins

And...

Someone on the blog commented:

No matter how rich an Igbo man is, I don't attend their parties on empty stomach. Sometimes I even go with my own food from home.

Its like the Igbo god has warned them never to feed the hungry. But they will give you drinks in an endless flow. It must be a spiritual something. At best you will see one dry rice and a microscopic meat.

An Igbo man should please explain why this is, as its beyond my comprehension

I haven't attended many Igbo weddings so I can't say for sure if it is true. I have attended Yoruba weddings where it is only one bottle of warm water that managed to get to me, and on the flip side, one that food and drinks wasted even after the mogbo moyas took basins of food home in poly bags.

Ok

Lol! I feel for the guy. I had a similar experience when I attended one Igbo naming ceremony. Wait, what am I talking about? It's a worse experience! Not similar in the least!

I had just moved down to Ikorodu from Sango August last year. I was alone quietly at work when my old secondary school friend, Ibrahim, called me (only God knows how he got my number) and told me that Chimezie, our landlord's fourth son would be having the naming ceremony of his first child the following day. The silly Ibrahim sugar-coated everything, saying Chimezie was now very wealthy and the ceremony would be the talk of the town for two big cows had already been killed and more cows had boarded a bus from abattoir. I was so excited. My excitement trebled when Ndubuisi, the immediate elder brother of the new father, asked me which kind of 'olosho' should be kept for me.

I was breathing hard as I pictured the adventure I would have. For the first time in my life, I would be serviced by call-g*rls. I screamed at the top of my voice that two ladies with big endowments should be reserved for me. I was already seeing myself in paradise as I imagined a hot party that awaited me.

The next day, I took a false leave from work and jumped in the next available bus leaving Ikorodu for Oshodi; and from Oshodi, I took another one to Ijaye, my old area. I was so excited. I wished I could just fly. I eventually arrived at the venue at around 4pm. The first thing that caught me as strange was the fact that I saw just two canopies. Two canopies! I had thought the whole street would be filled with tents, considering the wealth of someone who had just returned from Dubai for his child's naming ceremony. The guests were not more than sixty or sixty-one. Fear gripped my heart. I searched around for any evidence of cows, there was nothing like that. I almost searched the toilets, but something told me they would not keep cows in the toilets. What if the guests wanted to take a leak?

I was overcome with fear. I decided to seek out the idiot who called me and fed me different stories. I was sure he would explain better what was going on. I found him under a plantain tree smoking weed and drinking something that had been mixed with Codeine or Gamalin 20, I don't know. Ibrahim was as stoned as the biblical Stephen. He was not in the right state of mind to tell me what had happened to the cows. Hell, I gave up on him when he started calling me Adekunle Gold.

I decided that the next course of action was to find Chimezie and his brother. I eventually saw the brother. He was so excited to see me. He hugged me tight, introduced me to his friends, then he proceeded to tax me. What the hell? I was hearing 'at all at all na him bad'. He was urging me to drop something for the boys. The 'boys' he was referring to were men in their late forties. I had to drop about a thousand naira before the 'boys' released me. They were ready to beat the country's recession out of me.

I managed to take Ndubuisi aside and asked him about the two 'oloshos' he had reserved for me. He looked at me for what seemed like eternity, as if I had asked the world's most ridiculous question. Then he started preaching to me to give my life to Christ. Yes, Ndubuisi, Ndubuisi of all people, told me to give my life to Christ. For a moment, I wondered if one witch from my mother's village had carved out an effigy of me and was now defecating on it. What had I dragged myself into?

I decided to go and seat among the rest of the frustrated guests, hoping that we would be served. We were served quite alright...with toothpicks. I collected my own stick of toothpick with the expectation that food would be arriving soon. It didn't take long before the 'menu-menu' arrived, just four hours' time. I couldn’t even find my toothpick anymore, and while the other guests were being served some miserable plates of rice whose meat had to be seen with the aid of a microscope, one evil spirit was causing the servers to serve everyone around me minus me. One even had the guts to give me a plate of food to pass to the person sitting behind me. I wanted to keep the food for myself but on seeing the angry face of the gentlehulk behind me, I calmly performed my civic duty. I had no choice but to be my brother's keeper.

I was still waiting for my food about an hour later when everyone had left and the plates were washed. I admit, I shed tears. As I went back to Ikorodu that night, I made a vow that I would revenge. The baby was a girl. I vowed that in the next twenty years when the girl would be getting married, I would attend and reveal to everyone how I had been maltreated during the bride's naming ceremony.

Obviously, revenge isn't a virtue, because two days after that event, I was robbed of my phone and money in Oshodi.

LMAO!!!!
LarrySun
It fiction or what?

Ishilove:
Someone on the blog commented:



I haven't attended many Igbo weddings so I can't say for sure if it is true. I have attended Yoruba weddings where it is only one bottle of warm water that managed to get to me, and on the flip side, one that food and drinks wasted even after the mogbo moyas took basins of food home in poly bags.

Chai. I had a good laugh. This is damn hilarious but some tribalists will take it south.

I have attended an Igbo wedding. It was the most boring wedding I've ever attended. Instead of sharing food on time they were sharing garden egg and mashed groudnut. Their meat wasn't even big. Their rice wasn't even as red as that of Yorùbá's owambe jollof rice. Chai. Anyone who wants to attend an Igbo wedding should feed well before going or take ur food along.

Still lol esp @ d lady brought a plate with her clothe torn

LarrySun:
Lol! I feel for the guy. I had a similar experience when I attended one Igbo naming ceremony. Wait, what am I talking about? It's a worse experience! Not similar in the least!

I had just moved down to Ikorodu from Sango August last year. I was alone quietly at work when my old secondary school friend, Ibrahim, called me (only God knows how he got my number) and told me that Chimezie, our landlord's fourth son would be having the naming ceremony of his first child the following day. The silly Ibrahim sugar-coated everything, saying Chimezie was now very wealthy and the ceremony would be the talk of the town for two big cows had already been killed and more cows had boarded a bus from abattoir. I was so excited. My excitement trebled when Ndubuisi, the immediate elder brother of the new father, asked me which kind of 'olosho' should be kept for me.

I was breathing hard as I pictured the adventure I would have. For the first time in my life, I would be serviced by call-g*rls. I screamed at the top of my voice that two ladies with big endowments should be reserved for me. I was already seeing myself in paradise as I imagined a hot party that awaited me.

The next day, I took a false leave from work and jumped in the next available bus leaving Ikorodu for Oshodi; and from Oshodi, I took another one to Ijaye, my old area. I was so excited. I wished I could just fly. I eventually arrived at the venue at around 4pm. The first thing that caught me as strange was the fact that I saw just two canopies. Two canopies! I had thought the whole street would be filled with tents, considering the wealth of someone who had just returned from Dubai for his child's naming ceremony. The guests were not more than sixty or sixty-one. Fear gripped my heart. I searched around for any evidence of cows, there was nothing like that. I almost searched the toilets, but something told me they would not keep cows in the toilets. What if the guests wanted to take a leak?

I was overcome with fear. I decided to seek out the idiot who called me and fed me different stories. I was sure he would explain better what was going on. I found him under a plantain tree smoking weed and drinking something that had been mixed with Codeine or Gamalin 20, I don't know. Ibrahim was as stoned as the biblical Stephen. He was not in the right state of mind to tell me what had happened to the cows. Hell, I gave up on him when he started calling me Adekunle Gold.

I decided that the next course of action was to find Chimezie and his brother. I eventually saw the brother. He was so excited to see me. He hugged me tight, introduced me to his friends, then he proceeded to tax me. What the hell? I was hearing 'at all at all na him bad'. He was urging me to drop something for the boys. The 'boys' he was referring to were men in their late forties. I had to drop about a thousand naira before the 'boys' released me. They were ready to beat the country's recession out of me.

I managed to take Ndubuisi aside and asked him about the two 'oloshos' he had reserved for me. He looked at me for what seemed like eternity, as if I had asked the world's most ridiculous question. Then he started preaching to me to give my life to Christ. Yes, Ndubuisi, Ndubuisi of all people, told me to give my life to Christ. For a moment, I wondered if one witch from my mother's village had carved out an effigy of me and was now defecating on it. What had I dragged myself into?

I decided to go and seat among the rest of the frustrated guests, hoping that we would be served. We were served quite alright...with toothpicks. I collected my own stick of toothpick with the expectation that food would be arriving soon. It didn't take long before the 'menu-menu' arrived, just four hours' time. I couldn’t even find my toothpick anymore, and while the other guests were being served some miserable plates of rice whose meat had to be seen with the aid of a microscope, one evil spirit was causing the servers to serve everyone around me minus me. One even had the guts to give me a plate of food to pass to the person sitting behind me. I wanted to keep the food for myself but on seeing the angry face of the gentlehulk behind me, I calmly performed my civic duty. I had no choice but to be my brother's keeper.

I was still waiting for my food about an hour later when everyone had left and the plates were washed. I admit, I shed tears. As I went back to Ikorodu that night, I made a vow that I would revenge. The baby was a girl. I vowed that in the next twenty years when the girl would be getting married, I would attend and reveal to everyone how I had been maltreated during the bride's naming ceremony.

Obviously, revenge isn't a virtue, because two days after that event, I was robbed of my phone and money in Oshodi.

Larrysun has killed me oh. Chai. Biko what is this?
Like, it was not worth the lie told at work.
Mehn, nobody can do owambe like d Yorùbás oh even if it's mogbo moya, sth go still reach u if u hustle.

For this, I always attend weddings with my stomach full. I hardly ever eat at weddings, I hate waiting for food, when I know I can readily eat in my house.

Forget all that party rice and party food sweet pass. My food sweet pass their own.

Who cares about food, haba Peeps compete with drinks not some half cooked and semiconcious party food you can easily arrange at home.
Each tribe has their priorities....for yorubas theirs tends to be food while Igbos leans towards more drinks. So to amend this obvious SERIOUS problem in our society, I think Igbos and Yorubas should inter marry as often as possible so that this huge societal and heart wrenching anormally can be corrected with one side getting the booze in an abominable quantities while the other arranges an insane amount of foods that will keep the guest happy.

avicky:

Chai. I had a good laugh. This is damn hilarious but some tribalists will take it south.

I have attended an Igbo wedding. It was the most boring wedding I've ever attended. Instead of sharing food on time they were sharing garden egg and mashed groudnut. Their meat wasn't even big. Their rice wasn't even as red as that of Yorùbá's owambe jollof rice. Chai. Anyone who wants to attend an Igbo wedding should feed well before going or take ur food along.

Still lol esp @ d lady brought a plate with her clothe torn

As in ehn, my sister, I am not a party person but the best and most entertaining parties I have attended in the past are Yoruba parties

LarrySun:
Lol! I feel for the guy. I had a similar experience when I attended one Igbo naming ceremony. Wait, what am I talking about? It's a worse experience! Not similar in the least!

I had just moved down to Ikorodu from Sango August last year. I was alone quietly at work when my old secondary school friend, Ibrahim, called me (only God knows how he got my number) and told me that Chimezie, our landlord's fourth son would be having the naming ceremony of his first child the following day. The silly Ibrahim sugar-coated everything, saying Chimezie was now very wealthy and the ceremony would be the talk of the town for two big cows had already been killed and more cows had boarded a bus from abattoir. I was so excited. My excitement trebled when Ndubuisi, the immediate elder brother of the new father, asked me which kind of 'olosho' should be kept for me.

I was breathing hard as I pictured the adventure I would have. For the first time in my life, I would be serviced by call-g*rls. I screamed at the top of my voice that two ladies with big endowments should be reserved for me. I was already seeing myself in paradise as I imagined a hot party that awaited me.

The next day, I took a false leave from work and jumped in the next available bus leaving Ikorodu for Oshodi; and from Oshodi, I took another one to Ijaye, my old area. I was so excited. I wished I could just fly. I eventually arrived at the venue at around 4pm. The first thing that caught me as strange was the fact that I saw just two canopies. Two canopies! I had thought the whole street would be filled with tents, considering the wealth of someone who had just returned from Dubai for his child's naming ceremony. The guests were not more than sixty or sixty-one. Fear gripped my heart. I searched around for any evidence of cows, there was nothing like that. I almost searched the toilets, but something told me they would not keep cows in the toilets. What if the guests wanted to take a leak?

I was overcome with fear. I decided to seek out the idiot who called me and fed me different stories. I was sure he would explain better what was going on. I found him under a plantain tree smoking weed and drinking something that had been mixed with Codeine or Gamalin 20, I don't know. Ibrahim was as stoned as the biblical Stephen. He was not in the right state of mind to tell me what had happened to the cows. Hell, I gave up on him when he started calling me Adekunle Gold.

I decided that the next course of action was to find Chimezie and his brother. I eventually saw the brother. He was so excited to see me. He hugged me tight, introduced me to his friends, then he proceeded to tax me. What the hell? I was hearing 'at all at all na him bad'. He was urging me to drop something for the boys. The 'boys' he was referring to were men in their late forties. I had to drop about a thousand naira before the 'boys' released me. They were ready to beat the country's recession out of me.

I managed to take Ndubuisi aside and asked him about the two 'oloshos' he had reserved for me. He looked at me for what seemed like eternity, as if I had asked the world's most ridiculous question. Then he started preaching to me to give my life to Christ. Yes, Ndubuisi, Ndubuisi of all people, told me to give my life to Christ. For a moment, I wondered if one witch from my mother's village had carved out an effigy of me and was now defecating on it. What had I dragged myself into?

I decided to go and seat among the rest of the frustrated guests, hoping that we would be served. We were served quite alright...with toothpicks. I collected my own stick of toothpick with the expectation that food would be arriving soon. It didn't take long before the 'menu-menu' arrived, just four hours' time. I couldn’t even find my toothpick anymore, and while the other guests were being served some miserable plates of rice whose meat had to be seen with the aid of a microscope, one evil spirit was causing the servers to serve everyone around me minus me. One even had the guts to give me a plate of food to pass to the person sitting behind me. I wanted to keep the food for myself but on seeing the angry face of the gentlehulk behind me, I calmly performed my civic duty. I had no choice but to be my brother's keeper.

I was still waiting for my food about an hour later when everyone had left and the plates were washed. I admit, I shed tears. As I went back to Ikorodu that night, I made a vow that I would revenge. The baby was a girl. I vowed that in the next twenty years when the girl would be getting married, I would attend and reveal to everyone how I had been maltreated during the bride's naming ceremony.

Obviously, revenge isn't a virtue, because two days after that event, I was robbed of my phone and money in Oshodi.

Lmaaaaaooo!

Mschew

joseph1832ng:
For it, I always attend weddings with my stomach full. I hardly ever eat at weddings, I hate waiting on food, when I know I can readily eat in my house.

Forget all that party rice and party food sweet pass. My food sweet pass their own.

I must taste yours one day so I can confirm if all your culinary skills bragging are well founded.

Ishilove:

I must taste yours one day so I can confirm if all your culinary skills bragging are well founded.

I assure you, you won't be disappointed.

And so?

Ishilove:

As in ehn, my sister, I am not a party person but the best and most entertaining parties I have attended in the past are Yoruba parties

Depends on some but most yoruba parties are alright but I remember one I didn't get any food despite helping them to setup the venue in the morning.

Ishilove:

As in ehn, my sister, I am not a party person but the best and most entertaining parties I have attended in the past are Yoruba parties

Gbam. Well said.

Bad Market

pcguru1:


Depends on some but most yoruba parties are alright but I remember one I didn't get any food despite helping them to setup the venue in the morning.

Na Owambe party be the koko. It is only Yoruba party you will attend where food is served to you immediately you're seated.

Wetin tire me for Yoruba party be say dem like to share mineral. Why @ Ishilove?

The hunger games.


Lol

Yoruba parties are very generous with food and meat.. Big meat o.. Then later served with fesh fish peppersoup and also served again with small chops.. If u want wine? Uv got it
If u want beer? Uv got it! even soft drinks or cocktail drinks uv got it!
Anytime am. Invited to their parties? My tummy will nearly burst lol
With over feeding and eyes dim and dazed with cocktails drinks lol
I will just drive with more boldness in my mind home.. Na bed straight up..
No time to waste.
Yorubas dey try for enjoyment galore

My mum always advises eating at home before attending parties to avoid stories. So when they're busy conserving natural resources, I go jus pin dey check livescores or Fantasy Football.

I can't come and kee myself

But this starvation thing is common with igbos and Niger delta parties. I have attended Oyinbo party in the UK and they make sure there is enough food for guest.

But why igbos get that twisted mentality that you don't give guests food at a party. So why is it called a party then. The igbo guy/Urhobo lady wedding I attended last year was horrible they just selected family tables to serve while the friends can starve, the few people they served was pure bone on the rice. Even the guys landlord was not served one grain after him sitting for hours.

I NOR SEE CRASE CRASE I GO SAY NA IGBO WEDDING I WAN GO? YOU DEY SEE SAY THEIR WEDDING DEY FULL? NAI MAKE I LIKE BENIN... . NO MATTER HOW BROKE... SOMETHING MUST TOUCH YOU ALTHOUGH YOU GOTS TO SHARP.... ON SATURDAY FREE FOOD DEY EVERYWHERE NA. .. . Dem go give you your drink first... With your take away jollof rice ... Then if you get luck then go still serve you for broken plate... better meat... IGBO you go only drink palmwine and watch people eat before you

Ishilove:

As in ehn, my sister, I am not a party person but the best and most entertaining parties I have attended in the past are Yoruba parties

Which state are you from?

bellong:


Which state are you from?

The south-southern part of Nigerian

alexialin:
Yoruba parties are very generous with food and meat.. Big meat o.. Then later served with fesh fish peppersoup and also served again with small chops.. If u want wine? Uv got it
If u want beer? Uv got it! even soft drinks or cocktail drinks uv got it!
Anytime am. Invited to their parties? My tummy will nearly burst lol
With over feeding and eyes dim and dazed with cocktails drinks lol
I will just drive with more boldness in my mind home.. Na bed straight up..
No time to waste.
Yorubas dey try for enjoyment galore

That's why they are called the 'owambe ethnic group'

Loool.

Ishilove:

The south-southern part of Nigeria

Interesting... How is your wedding conducted from your side?

Are there plenty to eat and drink so I get prepared when it is your turn.

bellong:


Interesting... How is your wedding conducted from your side?

Are there plenty to eat and drink so I get prepared when it is your turn.

Well my dear, I will be very honest with you, I have never attended a wedding from my side. When my kin folks are wedding I and my sibs don't attend. Well, except for my brother and that's because he's the heir apparent so he has to know his extended family

From what I hear there's always plenty to drink

Once they have lived in lagos they leave all that nonsense behind.

I live in festac and I have attended Ibo naming ceremonies and there was food without story.