Gele Skontolo, Skentele!!

Abstract Gele painting by Bie Cookey

"You're shouting Mum" my daughter said, but I was not aware that I was. We had gone to a local hair dressing salon to have our 'headgears' professionally tied. We were taking no chances with  the alternative. I have spent many sweaty moments struggling with my gele, only to get some unusual helmet that looks like a space age headpiece. The wedding we were attending, was one of those social events where I was not in the mood  for my sometimes avant guard/unique attire.

I did not have any special instruments to measure the decibels of sound that were plummeting my ear drums, but was aware of being temporarily deaf. I was totally unable to hear what anyone in the room was saying, because the sound that had captured 100% of my auditory capabilities was like no other I know. That did not stop me from trying to carry out a conversation, albeit mimicking a town crier's skill in shouting.
That mix of a crackling sound, a chunky metallic zipper being yanked closed and open, several people gritting their teeth at once, five finger nails scraping down a black board, and many angle grinding machines all at once! This is the best way I know how to describe the sounds entering my ear from having my Gele tied. By the time we were done, I looked every bit the elegant Lagos lady in traditional garb from head to toe, but I had such a blinding headache.  I took a couple of painkillers; only so that my smiles at the function would not periodically decay into grimaces.  I am convinced now that a neurological exam after this experience would produce interesting brain waves and pathways, but I was up for it. Never mind that we had to undo it and re- tie it because it was just too tight at first. The Gele was so tight that my eyebrows were dragged sharply upwards, giving me the look of an astonished , beleaguered bird.
When we walked into the venue, an imaginary 'Lagbaja' was all up in my head singing 'Oni gele yi-Skentele! Skontolo. We picked our way through the crowd carefully, my steps were in elegant consonance with the song in my head.
It was like show time! A parade, an exhibition of a rare species.
All other Gele's poised aloft, were singing their own songs in perfect refrain........

As we say in Naija ....'Yanga get pain' but I think it was all well worth it.