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Ladies and gentlemen, have you ever received those emails from a "Nigerian prince" promising you unimaginable riches? I got one the other day. I thought, "Wow, finally my ship has come in!" I replied, and the next email was like, "Please send us your social security number, your credit card information, and, oh, throw in your firstborn for good measure." I'm thinking, "This prince is really thorough with his paperwork!" You know, it's like the prince is sitting in a cybercafe somewhere, typing away: "Dear Sir or Madam, I am a Nigerian prince, and I have $50 million to transfer to your account. But first, I need you to prove you're not a robot by sending me pictures of your cat." I'm just waiting for the day they ask for my shoe size and blood type. "Dear Prince, here's my A-positive and a picture of me wearing socks. Can I get my millions now?"
And you never meet a Nigerian prince in person. I mean, where are they hiding? Buckingham Palace? I bet the Queen has a secret room full of Nigerian princes just chilling, sipping tea, and talking about their latest scams. "Oh, Charles, this one thinks he's getting a million pounds. Foolish mortal!
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Nigerians have some interesting superstitions. My friend told me that if you sweep at night, you're sweeping away your wealth. I'm like, "Well, my wealth is hiding pretty well because I haven't seen it during the day either." And they say if a black cat crosses your path, it's bad luck. In Nigeria, it's like, "If a black cat crosses your path, it's probably just trying to find a cooler spot to nap." I heard about this one superstition that says you shouldn't whistle at night because it attracts snakes. Now, I'm no snake expert, but if a snake is chilling in the bushes, and I start whistling, I don't think its first thought is, "Let me check that out!" It's probably more like, "What's wrong with this human? Can't they just walk without making noise?"
And don't get me started on the one about itching palms. They say if your palms itch, you're about to receive money. My palms have been itching for years; I'm starting to think they're allergic to wealth. I'm over here moisturizing like, "Come on, money, I've got the perfect spot for you!
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I was talking to my friend about Nigerian names, and they're like poetry. I mean, have you ever heard a Nigerian name? It's like a whole sentence. You can't just call someone by their first name; you have to commit to the whole paragraph. My friend was like, "Hey, meet my friend Chukwudi Ezeigwe Okonkwo," and I'm like, "Do you have his business card? I need to write it down!" And every name seems to have a meaning. Chukwudi means "God exists," Ezeigwe means "king of the sky," and Okonkwo means "born on Nkwo market day." It's like their parents were writing a novel with each name. Meanwhile, my name means "he who mispronounces his own name during roll call."
I'm thinking of changing my name to something Nigerian for the sheer confidence boost. Imagine introducing yourself like, "Hi, I'm Chijioke Adebayo Oluwaseun," and people are like, "Whoa, this guy must be important!" Meanwhile, I'm just here trying to remember where I left my keys.
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Nigerian weddings are on a whole other level. I went to one, and it was like a carnival, a concert, and a fashion show all rolled into one. You know it's a Nigerian wedding when the bride's dress has its own zip code. I'm surprised they don't hire air traffic controllers to guide the groom to the altar. And the food! Nigerian weddings have more food than a Thanksgiving dinner, a birthday party, and a food festival combined. They're like, "In case you didn't eat for the past three days, we got you covered!" I left that wedding with enough jollof rice to last me a month.
But the highlight is always the dance floor. Nigerians don't just dance; they have dance battles. It's like a scene from a dance movie, and I'm over there doing the two-step like I'm auditioning for a dad dance competition. They're so good; I feel like I need a dance visa just to join in.
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