Silent Power

There was something profound about this experience. It wasn’t just about the way the room moved with laughter, dance and praise for the happy couple. It was in the utter silence that cut through the party clutter and surrounded me at my table.

The groom, a Cornell-educated Nigerian, was paying homage to his culture with the welcome party for his wedding weekend. This was my very first time having the honor to don a custom designed wedding guest dress from the motherland herself. An African designer, profound for his work, delivered to me the most form fitting, complimentary, regal dress I could have ever imagined. It fit better on me than the model in the Pinterest inspo photo I selected.

There is a line that Nicki Minaj is known for, “Am I the star in every room?”

On this day, it was a yes for me. At least this is how I felt at my seat. As the wedding party crowd sauntered in, guests selected seats wherever their hearts desired. At first, I endeavored to preserve my makeup. I failed to mention at this point that this wedding was taking place in Puerto Rico-- during the mid-day.

I am in a floor-length gown with mesh long sleeves. Little did the room know, I was sitting stark still and pin needle straight because I was devilishly afraid of sweating off my natural glam slay. Plus, I’ve recently joined the ranks of brave souls who have switched to exclusively using natural deodorant. It's not fun to be sweaty in these conditions.

As the guests began to fill the room, the young wives of the American guys were exchanging awkward glances, trying to figure out one of two things. 1). Which of these frat boys are you here with and did he leave you standing here looking bewildered too? 2). Are you as hot in your dress as I am in mine?

The fun thing I learned about Nigerian culture this day is that they love coordination. In a much deeper way than we American Black folks like throwing all white parties. It gets way deeper.

Around the room there were at least fifteen girls wearing the same color, cut, pattern and design coordination as I was. To indicate we are the guests of the groom's friends. A different set of 15-20 women were wearing coordinated fabrics of another kind to indicate the guests and family of the bride. And finally a third set of coordinated dress fabrics to indicate the guests of the groom's family. Yes, you read that correctly.

Once, I realized that so many other girls in the room were dressed nearly identical to me, I decided there was no point to promenading. So, I continued to sit still. My hope at this point was still to endeavor to preserve my makeup. Out of nowhere, a swarm of the groom’s elders surrounded my table.

They greet me with gentle head bows and gracious smiles. One man-- motions in a I’m telling you not asking you kind of motion to the empty chairs next to me.

I have read the book, Never Eat Alone, so of course I say yes to them all plopping down at my table. I wasn’t doing anything else but fanning myself using a makeshift cardboard fan gifted to me by the bride’s aunt in the resort shuttle.

The men, there are four of them all file in one after the other and take their seats. No one says a single word to me the entire time they grab chairs. For the next 10-15 minutes, they all smile and nod laughing and conversing silently among themselves-- and to me too!

I was honored to be included in this regal exchange of nods. I told my husband later that it felt like I was both an African dignitary and a Japanese royalty. Those are the two cultures most prominently known for their use of body language as a means of conducting business.

Now, I know I do a lot of affirmation work-- but I never saw this moment coming! I am sitting at the table with men who not just look like kings, but who have the energy of kings. Directly across from me is a man with a large red beaded necklace who exhibited the most pride.

My suspicions that I was in the presence of very important men was further confirmed when the women who looked to be their peers set up a table directly behind our table. The women turned and oriented their seats to face the men, who all sat and faced one another and out toward the bride and groom space. One woman left from the matriarch table and addressed the man in front of me as “Baba.”

Again, this was my first time at this kind of function, but from the sounds and looks of it, “Baba” was a very important man. Next, the women started serving the men at the table with a traditional cookie snack to hold them over until the passed hors d'oeuvres began. Again, I as a the charter member of this table was also served by the women. As a sheer result of being seated at the table. No one else got the cookies. At the top, it's just us!

Finally, another woman walked up and broke our circle of silence by asking me in a language I didn’t understand to take a photo of her and the “Baba” fellow. My face neglected to hide its clear confusion at the language barrier.

So the woman asked in English with a heavy accent, “Igbo? You speak Igbo?”

“No, no I don’t.” I responded

She began motioning her phone towards me and I knew immediately what she wanted. This language has become universal in the smartphone era.

“You want me to take a photo?” I said in a tone like I solved the riddle on Wheel of Fortune.

She nodded and said “yes.” Then I complied.

After the photo was captured, the guys all nodded and smiled at me. I felt relieved to know that I was still cool with the clique even though we hadn't exchanged a single word the whole time. I also knew then that they didn’t speak much English, but they understood it. I didn’t speak much Igbo, but somehow I understood them. It was all based on energy alone.

I magnetized them to me and they magnetized me to them.

Once it was established that we were a table of friends, I did what any woman who really wants to party does. Took off my shoes, wrapped my phone in my purse and tucked it away on the chair underneath the table. I popped back up and motioned while asking all the old guys at the table to watch my stuff.

They nodded and motioned back, finally laughing out loud and compiled. Too bad one of these distinguished men of valor asked me for $10 when I got back as payment for guarding my things.

“Huh? What?” I pretended I didn’t speak English and walked away.