“My village people were beating drums on my head oh” and it seems like everything was moving in their favour.
Not the actual village people and most definitely not real drums. Or could they be... Nah! iI's just a figure of speech meaning things decided to go south and I was dancing to the tune.
Entrance to the church
Today was the chrism mass in the Catholic Church which only takes place once a year. A designated Catholic church in a state is selected and in this case the Queen of Nigeria procathedral Abuja.
All the priests from every Catholic church which numbered over 300 within the federal capital territory were in attendance as their vows were renewed and all the oils blessed by the archbishop.
Now back to my torn gown.
The mass was to begin by 10 am and we were (my mum and I) out of the house by 9:10 am. We walked a long distance from home to the main road to get a cab that we call ‘along’. On our way, my gown was given high praise for how gorgeous I looked in it and all - it felt good. Another even kidded saying “Is today the wedding “ I walked so gorgeously and was proud of my work. Never knew my proud handiwork could be short-lived.
Upon entering the cab I heard the sound, the one every man or lady dreads ever so lightly and just to my hearing. I think I felt it more than I heard it. “Pra!” I put my hand underneath my bum and felt the entire thread let loose from my thigh before the pom-pom, flowing down to the point where the zip began.
I thought of the next plan of action before whispering to my mum about my predicament.
I used my head tie to wrap around my bum instead of heading home, great idea right? And it worked. My people said it was not over.
I still walked confidently and gorgeously to the front section of sits. I sat down and stood up a few times before another feeling began. Ease and free flow of air from my back- my zip was coming loose from bottom to top so slowly and majestically. Thank goodness I wore a black bra and a grey coloured tight. Though wanted this to be over like quickly. Still, I was confident I was getting out of this too and will tell the tale like I am now.
As much as possible let's minimize the attention my half-naked body would call.
I squatted down and the zip could not hold and I stood up again. My mum was so worried, even more, worried than I was.
I now thought of kneeling rather than squatting so the zip wasn't restricted and will be brought down to the last edge. I didn't mind that the few people around had a glimpse of my undies if I could escape the whole church sharing in the glimpse, hence, causing mass distraction.
It worked. I noticed that each time I sat it let loose again, so I stood outside for the remainder of the mass.
In the cab returning home, I brazed up for the worst and I let it be since it was home and nowhere else.
I survived this.
Moving forward- I will make sure to double sew or even triple over as well as carry needle and thread in all my bags. Could there be disposable flip-flops? Cus my legs ached from standing in them for an hour plus.😪
I survived this😮💨and confidently saying...
I am alive and thriving. Hope you are too?
Today's post is part of my daily participation in the #Iamalivechallenge
Join us on
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~Whitney Alexander; a lover of God, life and knowledge; a fashion designer, a part time foodie, a resplendent tutor and a blogger/writer/storyteller in the hive family and loving every bit of it. Thanks for stopping by. Your comments and inputs are very much welcomed. xoxo~
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