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BN Book Excerpt: Naija Which Way? by Arike Ayodele







The sound speakers throbbed and thumped from every angle of the ballroom as the sound of drums, bass, and strings riveted the room.

They vibrated and pulsated as if they were dancing along to the song that (Baddo) Olamide’s voice surged out.

Drums. Bass. Beats. AFROBEATS – the sound of Nigeria, the sound of Africa.

A feverish wave spread throughout the room as the crowd sang out in unison:


Everybody was on his or her feet, with body gyrating, voice singing and yansh shaking. It did not matter if they were young or old or if they were wealthy or poor. It did not matter if they were guests or if they were there to serve the guests. Music was the ultimate unifier and it soared across social class, culture, language and religion. Everyone knew that when you heard Baddo sing out “first of all” the only appropriate response was:


Temidayo McCauley sang and danced along with her friends who were also seated at Table Manchester.

“Whatever happened to regular table numbers?” Bukola, who was seated her right, asked as she gestured towards their table name.

“Abi o,” Sinachi replied. “So,you too, you noticed.”

“Why are you ladies acting like bush people, like this?” Amaka said in her know-it-all voice.

“Yemisi told me she wanted to use the names of her favorite fashion designers and labels but Yomi wasn’t feeling the idea. So, she had to compromise.”

“The table names are her favorite places in the UK and the Premier League football club, so it was a win-win for Yomi.

“Me, I like the idea o, abi Temi, ki lo feel – what are your thoughts?” Amaka asked as she glanced at Temidayo.

“Hm, I don’t blame her at all o, this is Nigeria.” Temidayo answered as she made a sound with her throat.

“It is actually an intelligent move. Imagine the wahala that can occur if you were to assign someone to Table 65, for example, and later, the person now comes to confront you on your wedding day, demanding to know why they were not assigned to Table 1.”

Temidayo gestured with her hands for emphasis.

“That is what happened to my cousin o! Yemisi has saved herself from unnecessary drama,” she added.

Temidayo mentally tuned out the others as they continued to discuss the topic.

“Waoooh, Yemisi really outdid herself with this wedding o,” she thought, as her eyes slowly flickered around the ballroom.

“In fact, talk about attention to detail,” she nodded her head with approval as she made observations.

The massive ballroom illuminated in a warm, magenta purple glow from the up lighting.

Temidayo watched as servers made their way around the room, carrying bottles of expensive champagne and liquor. Other servers balanced trays of colorful cocktails with tiny umbrellas. She spotted bottles of Prosecco and Rose, among others, passed freely from hand to hand.


You may read the entire book HERE

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