The Week of 26: I just dey borro-pose... (Spirit Animals Don't Have Home Training)

One of the best things about being Nigerian is how we speak. We don't speak Nigerian, but our English is truly spectacular. We use words like crinkum-crankum and discombobulate and then we colour them with expressions like kpoto-kpoto, and aboki. Some of the best Nigerian writing isn't found in our books, it's on twitter and some of it is on this blog called zikoko.com.

Zikoko isn't profound or anything like that, but everything that they put up is worth at least a chuckle.

The Nigeria expression I'm crazy about at the moment is borropose. It's a marriage of borrow and pose, and it happens when you lend something to a friend and he or she rocks it like it's theirs. Say you've worked your arse off for a Land Rover Discovery 4, and a friend of yours borrows it for a night. In the morning, you wake up to an instagram feed filled with pictures of your friend sitting on the roof with a bottle of Champagne and captions like God is good and #blessed. The nerve!

As silly as I think the practice is I am not above it. Last week, I sent my only jacket to the dry cleaners. I had worn it for about six months, and it smelled like a homeless person. It was a necessary move because I have never known eau de homeless to do anything good for anyone, but it meant that I had nothing that could cope with the icy nights head.

I went to my neighbour for assistance. A few weeks before, I'd seen him in this thick too cool for school number. It was the sort of jacket that I'd look at with longing but never buy. When I buy clothes, I think of the future. If I can't see myself wearing it in five years, then I turn my eyes from it and get something else. This coat was one of those, perfect for 25 but useless for 28.

When I put it on it was like a spirit descended upon me. I felt bolder, younger and wiser. I didn't need anyone to tell me that I looked cool, I knew it in my heart of hearts. It wouldn't have mattered very much if I actually looked like an idiot because I was immune.

Typically before I get dressed I ask myself WWED. That is what would Erkel do. When you're black and you're short and you wear glasses and your idea of a good afternoon is one spent in Waterstones, you don't have many style icons to choose from. No matter what you wear the Erkel will shine through.

And that's how I went to the cool kids capital. Strutting like a deranged Ostrich, and starting dance battles I couldn't finish. When the night was over, I returned the jacket. Spirit animals shouldn't be so casually displayed. They lack home training.

 

Happy Days,

Afam.