My Graduation Owambe Experience: A Celebration of A Journey to Remember

The last few weeks have probably been the most thrilling experience I have had in the many years of being an undergraduate, and it's owing to the fact that there were a lot more occasions in one single week that I would have normally had, thanks to becoming a graduate.

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One of the series of occasions that I have had recently, following the sign-out day and the defenses for my final project, is the owambe party that had been arranged by my college's association, the Nigerian Universities Engineering Students' Association (NUESA).

<subOur flier

"Owambe" is fundamentally a Yoruba term used in Nigeria to describe a social gathering or party that is usually characterized by music, dancing, food, and drinks. And you see, this is sort of a crucial event over here, as we love to celebrate, especially in times like this. Therefore, as excited graduating students, we arranged one for ourselves to commemorate the end of being an undergraduate, which, by the way, isn't much of an exhilarating experience over here.

Initially, when the bill for the ticket was announced to be $7 (#5000), I didn't have it at that time or for a very long time. But a friend of mine, who is part of the Gentle-Bros (a brotherhood I'm a part of), was kind enough to pay for my ticket to the event. And that's how I could even attend it.

The date for the party (Owambe) was slated for last Saturday, the 18th of February, a typical day for Yoruba-style parties. And for me, it was fixed in between a really tight schedule as I had a different celebration event slated for the following Sunday at church. The "different celebration," termed Final Year Brethren (FYB) Sunday, of which I was actively a part, required me to be present on that same Saturday for rehearsal as I was to play the guitar, as I have always done. I will tell you about that one soon enough.

The party was fixed to start at 12 noon, but you know Africans with their own timing, so I just knew it was never going to start at that time precisely; rather, I had expected them to start around 2 PM. That's why there's the term "African time," because we just never do things at the right time most of the time, especially parties. Oh well, I had planned to get there around 3 PM, but that still depended on some other factors.

I had to be at church for rehearsal at 11 a.m. Therefore, I had to attend the rehearsal first and then attend the party much later. However, due to poor planning, I still had my fila (a traditional men's hat) and my agbada (a yoruba flowing robe for men) on a different side of the state. I had to find a way to send it over; otherwise, I may have either attended the party looking different from my colleagues or not even attended at all. But thanks to my mother, I had all I needed to look good brought to me—by herself. _{Aren't mother's simply amazing? Mine sure is...}

One way or another, things worked out, and I found my way to the party—after paying an exuberant amount of money to get there. It turns out that attending parties like this, or any Yoruba kind, attracts a lot of bills. Phew! The cab driver charged us four times the amount. "Us," because it happened that I wasn't even the only one late to the party. And this was even way after 4 p.m., in fact. Way to go with the time, Joe!

In our exotic ride

And, to the least of my surprise, it hadn't been long since the party started when I got there with my friends. It was a really good thing I didn't even think of attending the party first and then the rehearsal.

First things first at a party that "you aren't really late for": take photographs, and really good ones! My friends and I didn't even bother entering the event hall until we had taken enough photos were chased by some ladies who wanted to take photos at the same spot. Then we moved in to secure a table for ourselves.

The Gentle-Bros

As usual, music was already in the air. They brought in a live band, which performed throughout the event. And it wasn't long till I got my groove on and danced to the rhythm of their music.

The order of the event went on and on, but there was a lot of room and time for us to dance a lot. Heck, I had never danced as much as I did at this party. I didn't even think I could move my body to groove, but it happened somehow. I didn't even care who was looking and who wasn't. I was ecstatic.

Before long, the main meal came. Although I asked for amala (a swallow food), I then gave it to my friend, as I was the last one in the party and since he seemed to desire it more than I did. I then ate jollof and fried rice instead.

Prior to the serving of the main meal, we had been served drinks of different varieties. There was no shortage of drinks throughout the event. And then much later, desert was served. This was a piece of cake with some toppings on it. I still wonder how I managed to stomach everything that day.

I am not sure when the party ended, but I left at 9:45 PM with my friends as we had agreed on. It was a tad bit late to get home, and so it was a little challenging to get home.

I spent about five hours at the party, and I can say I probably spent about three hours dancing. It was a rather unusual sight for my friends and colleagues, as they seemed pretty surprised but happy to see their class governor loosen up. And I am glad I did loosen up, as it felt so good.

Parties are really not my thing, but with my experience lately, I might as well be a party guy, and I never really knew that. Or maybe it was just the excitement of graduating. In any case, I believe I had a good time and enjoyed myself.