Ekene Aka
Ah, the almighty white lie! We Nigerians practically have a PhD in them. From saving our auntie’s feelings to escaping juju gossip, these little fibs keep the peace and the laugh track rolling. Let’s take a look at some classic whoppers we’ve all told at some point:
“I’m fine.” This national anthem applies to everything from heartbreak to that rogue pepper that snuck past your defenses. You could be nursing a wound that would make Rambo cry, but one look from your mama and it’s “I’m fine o, just small headache.”
“This outfit looks great on you.” Bless your heart, Ngozi, but that blouse makes you look like a discount parrot. But would you ever say that out loud? Never! “Ah ah, this agbada dey fit you well well,” you say with a straight face, hoping she doesn’t catch you picturing Big Bird in your head.
“Oga [Boss], I dey come!” This is the holy grail of white lies. You’re chilling at Ikeja computer village two hours after work started, but your boss calls. Panic? Nah. “Oga, I dey come already,” you say, channelling your inner Usain Bolt as you navigate through Oshodi traffic.
“NEPA took light again.” As Nigerians, we have a special relationship with electricity. When the lights go out for the hundredth time this month, blaming the national grid (NEPA) is the easiest option. Even if you forgot to pay the bill again, who needs the truth when you can blame the system?
“This pepper soup no too spicy.” This is a lie new visitors fall for every time. We Nigerians have a tolerance for spice that would make dragons weep. But to a foreigner, a little ata rodo feels like a dragon’s breath. So we downplay it with a nonchalant, “Na small pepper,” watching with amusement as they turn into a human sprinkler.
“I no dey yarn Yoruba/Igbo/Hausa.” When you see that distant relative who only speaks their native language approaching, the escape plan kicks in. Suddenly, you forget your mother tongue faster than you can say “Oyinbo”
“Na traffic hold me.” The ultimate excuse for everything! Whether you overslept, got lost chasing a stray puff-puff seller, or simply didn’t feel like going, traffic is always the culprit. “Lagos traffic na die,” you sigh dramatically, even if you were just chilling at home.
Check Out Part II
