Lessons Learned From Nigeria Yoruba Movies
Her eyes were fixed on me for as long as she could stand me. I had only said “no sorry, we don’t have” but those eyes in reply held lots of words I dared not to understand for they shook my legs even though she was the one standing.
Calling it scornful would probably be an understatement. Her eyes seemed to me, a judgment passed upon for my words, as innocent as my intent for uttering them might have been.
As she gazed at me, I was recollected to the several Yoruba movies I was made to watch during the Nigerian election 4 weeks break. I cannot name them because my disinterest at the time didn’t let me care to know their titles.
Nonetheless, the lesson learned from them was not something even my disinterest could put off.
She stood there looking at me for all that time, putting me on edge, I couldn’t even bring myself to look back.
I didn’t hear a word she said, though I assumed she must have spoken in Ibibio, as it is customary for a native Akwa ibomites – assuming everyone in the state understands the language. But I needed not to hear her to know what she wanted and to know I wasn’t fit to help her with it.
My gazer, an averagely tall black slender girl, probably only 15/16 years old, wore a dirty sky blue top and a black or grey skirt, could hardly tell, hung a black sac bag over her right shoulder, and spoke to my partner and I. Words I assumed were “please, can you give me some money?”
My partner, of course, a gentleman, if he had he’d have given…
In retrospect, why do they do that? Every guy I’ve been with seems to like to give, I’m beginning to see it as a showoff or a strategy to get the girl – me, to like them.
I know what you think of me right now, and it’s fair that you think it, I gave you reasons to, so go ahead and explore that God-given imaginative brain of yours.
No, I’m not going to try to convince you that I’m anything but, or that I just have a reserved opinion about handing out cash directly to strangers in a country where I know that my goodwill can be used against me.
And that was also a lesson learned from watching some Yoruba movies.
Let’s get back to base now.
The lesson that flashed through my mind while those eyes I dared not behold, darted gloom at me and caused every nerve of my body to shiver was…wait for it…
Karma!
Several Yoruba movies portray karma, and while it may seem like the storyline is getting boring – a personal opinion, people like me never learn.
In one particular Yoruba movie I remember, a lady sold her friend's goodwill to the spirit world so she is left to walk on earth as a complete failure.
Why?
Well, because her friend easily got men who admired her and wanted to help her financially, but one day luck wasn’t on her side so instead of her, a man they came across took interest in the other.
(hope you followed that).
But this friend wouldn’t have it, she found a way to sleep with the man.
Do you know what makes it upsetting?
The fact that she was letting her friend know about how she intended to get the man to sleep with her and pay a particular amount of money so they both would split it.
That was what led to spiritual trade.
There are several movies similar to this, but I’d like to get to my point now.
I still don’t believe I did anything wrong by honestly stating that I couldn’t help this girl, and I’ve replayed the scene in my head, and I can also say that my tone wasn’t at all hostile, but you remember when our folks used to say things like “not everyone you see is human”? Probably when they’re telling us to refrain from collecting things from other people, or maybe when they’re just sending us off to boarding school.
So yea, with that warning ringing in my ears and the Yoruba movies replaying in my head, I got shivers down my spine as I imagined reading “we shall see” in the way she looked at me.
Of course, I did my bit to rebuke my thoughts and whatever meaning her gaze might hold, but seriously, y’all be careful out there.
Let me know of any crazy “onlooker” story you’ve got.
