A Nigerian lady, Abimbola Monsurat has taken to social media to narrate nostalgically her first law dinner experience and offers the following advice to undergraduates.
She said: Every law student usually has a vague memory of his or her first Law dinner: the setting, the dressing, the food, the dessert, the mingling and the connecting. Everything. I am no exception.
Let me state clearly, unlike a lot of my coursemates, I had no idea that such thing even existed. Eating with fork and knife whilst making idle conversations? This idofian girl couldn’t relate. E da kun, wetin do spoon? Why can’t I crack my bone in peace and why sip water or wine delicately like a posh Aje buha? Ewo ni yeye tradition gan na?.
Anyway, the week of our First law dinner in 100level was very hectic, I couldn’t care less honestly as I wasn’t into fashion then. If I had my way, a top and jean would suffice. Sebi, na to chop, dust yansh and go back to the hostel ni but my bestie wasn’t having it. We had to turn up and turn up well! She dragged me to Amilengbe market, where experts in braids making were permanently located and we spent hours making our hair for the occasion. I would not lie, the end result wasn’t bad. That same week, we made a short trip in between lectures to Taiwo Street to pick out our outfit. Law students were known for their black and white ensemble, so we settled for something of that colour, we obviously didn’t get the memo. Poor us.
A day before the dinner, the social director of the Law department paid us a visit, and felt we needed to showcase small talent at the dinner “Make things a bit interesting, showcase your talents…” he urged us.
OK na, what better way for us to do it than to do a little dance routine, six of us choreographed relentlessly to Sean’s Paul’s “Shake that thing” for hours. Forget that nothing to dey there to shake sef. But small bum bum sef dey shake o.
A little bird equally told us, the boys too were planning to mime Westlife’s popular song- Queen of my heart. I was so excited, my first dinner and I was already part of the dancing crew. Such luck! What a show.
The day finally came, a beautiful Friday. Dinner was slated for 7pm. I and my dancing crew practised till 4pm, I kept whining that non- existent tiny waist for hours. ‘Practice makes perfect’- they say.
We started our preparations shortly after, small powder for me, small eyepencil, shikini lipstick (popping red colour of course), small perfume, I wanted everything subtle and mysterious. Na dinner, I gat comport myself. There was a brief argument with my friends whether I needed a jacket to complete my outfit, I honestly didn’t want, it will ruin the glam I wanted but on their insistence, I made a compromise, I will carry it on my shoulder. That was my saving grace that night. The jacket! Borrowed from another lady down the hall.
The venue of the dinner was somewhere outside town, so we had to leave campus early, we chartered a taxi,we wanted to arrive in a grand style- all classy, all chic. No hassles.
When we got to the venue, I froze for a second- na where we wan enter be this? The size of the hall was daunting and intimidating gan, well, I be lagos brought up, no shaking, I throway face and approached the lady at the entrance. “Àunty, we are 100level students o, bla bla..please direct us”. The lady sized me from head to toe and demanded for our tickets? Like a waitress or receptionist will ask you in the UK for your ID before selling you liquor. Na so I small reach? She obviously thought we were gate crashers from other departments or even non-students. At that point, I and my colleagues were already fuming, what kind of embarrassment is this na? No one told us we needed any tickets, we paid after all. We were still debating amongst ourselves whether to just damn the whole thing and go home when the Law department President passed by, he recognised us and told the lady to let us through.
If I was intimidated by the size of the hall, the interior decor was breathtaking, table and chairs all set beautifully, wine glasses, napkins..everything. The ladies were all dressed beautifully, black dresses, guys in black suits- all looking regal. I looked at myself in a white spaghetti top and palazzo trouser and felt like an intruder. My friends didn’t look better, different colour combinations, all awkward and cringeworthy. I quickly shrugged on my jacket, if no one looked hard enough, they may actually think I was putting on a trouser suit😆 🤣 😂.
We dragged ourselves to a table and gradually settled in, I caught one or two curious stares from some of the attendees but chose to ignore, na nonsense we wear, we no kill person. The deed has been done, we move. I was still trying to remember which hand the fork was meant to be in and where knife suppose be, so as not to disgrace my ancestors when I saw the social director waving frantically at me, haa! This man is expecting me to go and shake my yansh in front of this distinguished people 😒 😑. He must be kidding me. I no do again, I get small self respect. A quick discussion with my crew members and one of us was elected to go and break the news to him. He was disappointed and furious, but it is our talent after all and the decision to showcase it or not lies solely with us.
After the whole drama, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, well, save for the fact that my chicken almost flew off my plate while i was struggling with it, fork and knife eating etiquette in the mud. Something wey I for use my bare hands tear apart. We had opportunities to mingle with our seniors, exchanged pleasantries and danced. I was a good dancer those days and didn’t hesitate to jump on the stage when it was time to unwind. We danced into the wee hours of the night and made our way back to the campus early the next morning.
As I staggered into my bed, all tired and exhausted, I swuftly remembered that I had left my hall mate’s jacket which I had taken off to describe to a certain senior how to dance- “It’s getting hot in here, so take off your clothes” by Nelly at the dinner venue. That jacket was never to be found again. Lessons learnt- the hard way. Frenzies come and go- don’t borrow pose to slay. You fit lose the clothes. Selah.
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