This is extremely complicated. So if you have little time or concentration – you have my permission to go back to sleep, exist in a fog or do whatever you want to do. Hahahah
Faithful readers will perhaps remember this conversation with Hammad.
He: The goat is holding me back. Doesn’t trust to travel in December, he believes he is gonna get slaughtered for Christmas. I so much love your laugh.
Me: And I love your jokes that make me laugh.
Etc etc etc.
I had secret fears for that goat. During Ramadan, at Eid there is a sacrifice of animals. No camels in Nigeria to speak of, so I had fears for the goat (and all goats actually)
This where it is going to get complicated It seems I am observing Ramadan in Nigeria Needed to find out more. Looked to Wikipedia to discover more.
‘Eid is popularly known as Small Sallah in Nigeria. During the day, people generally greet each other by saying Barka Da Sallah, which when translated means “Greetings on Sallah” in the Hausa language. The celebrations last as long as 3 days.”
Hammad speaks Housa. When I correct his English he just whines.
He: English is my second language
His sister told me Housa is easy to learn, suggesting I could learn ti to speak to her two young sons. I am SO terrible at languages. The intelligent children will start speaking English to me as they do not understand my House. A couple of word will probably be sufficient. Hahaha They both have said Hi to me in a reel shared on Instagram. Hi in English. We are off to a good start. Their Uncle can translate. I am too old to learn another language. Oh, by the way, English is the official language of Nigeria which rendered me surprised and relieved.
Back to the Goat
I read more about the Ramadan celebrations, also watched a a YouTube video – crowds of Nigerians outside praying. Mashallah Alhamdulillah Nigerians of both sexes dress so colorfully. Not the black and white of Saudi Arabia. Women black, men white in KSA. Guys, with no sense of history say it is traditional. Look at King Abdul Aziz in my fabled magazine of May 31, 1943. He was NOT in white. I did a hilariously funny Instagram video when I was leaving Saudi Arabia for Malaysia. It has gotten countless views, almost more than any other. Finish on Instagram (Alexis-alaa McBride). It may be attached to this blog, if Chris is alive and well.
The Youtube video describes this, found on Wikipedia. .
Visiting the prayer ground
“Males and females of all ages visit the prayer ground to perform the Eid prayer. Most of them wear new clothes to show joy and happiness, as this is one of the year’s most important days. They perform this prayer by observing two rak’ahs after the imam and then staying on the prayer ground to listen to the sermon from the imam, also attended by kings and other dignitaries. A gun is fired into the sky from the royal entourage to mark the end of the prayer.”
This is all I have to say about that. I just hope the bullet fired irresponsibly into the sky from the royal entourage does not fall from the sky and hit me. If so, I will be on Fast Track. Therefore, I have no concerns and it is back to the goat. Finally and at last.
The Sacrifice
After completing the prayer and the sermon, the imam slaughters his sacrifice, often a male sheep. This sheep is present at the prayer ground before the prayer begins. After the slaughter, the Muslims return to their homes to slaughter theirs in order to draw closer to God and celebrate. Most Muslims slaughter sheep, which are very expensive in this season. A few of the affluent slaughter cows and camels
Okay??? Nobody is slaughtering goats. Just male sheep (also called rams), cows and for the rich camel. I may be with the camel crowd. It was once my ambition to kiss a camel. Never was able to do so for a number of reasons. There is a photograph of me kissing a wooden camel in Dubai but it was not real and it did not kiss back, by the way. I will see if I can find it amongst my many photographs.
But the celebrations in Nigeria are not over yet. No srrie bob they are not. Here come the horses which are not a sacrificial lamb or sheep, or cow, or camel
Horse riding (Durbar)
After the Eid al-Adha prayer ends, the emirs and chiefs in northern Nigeria come out at the head of the crowd of worshippers and others watching the proceeding, riding adorned horses. It is also known as the Durbar festival. A horse race follows in front of the emir.
We are not done yet, Along comes the food from the sacrifice.
Sharing from the sacrifice
Muslims in Nigeria share the meat of their sacrifices with relatives and friends to share the joy of Eid.
Not altogether sure I want to eat a camel.
Me: Thank you, Could I just eat the cow or the male sheep.
They: But camel is a great delicacy.
Me: Perhaps. But I did not even kiss a camel. I think to eat one before even kissing one is not proper.
They: Fine Madam
It is not over yet, but almost.
Visitation
“Visitation is part of the traditions. Muslims visit their friends and extended families, and gifts are presented to young ones. This act, the Muslims believe, fosters the love and harmony that Islam represents. Among the places visited during this festival are amusement parks, the beach, and other places of leisure” .
I am going to tired by then and it does not look like I am going to get a gift because I am old. No beaches around Abuja, no amusement parks that I know of.
Look this up for yourself. It is called Eid al-Adha in Nigeria.
No doubt about it, I lead a most interesting life. Sounds unbelievable, I realize. Truth is stranger than fiction. OF COURSE I wrote about it in a prior blog. Typed into the search engine. According to it I spoke of Truth is stranger than fiction 16 times. The first one that appeared is from November 5, 2019. I quote from it, putting myself in quotes.
So much is happening here in London that if I do not blog every day I get behind. That is happening at this moment. There is that saying: Truth is stranger than fiction, Mark Twain quote, is most apt for my life. “1) Why shouldn’t truth be stranger than fiction? Fiction, after all, has to make sense. 2) It’s no wonder that truth is stranger than fiction. Fiction must be credible.
3) Truth is stranger than fiction. It has to be! Fiction has to be possible and truth doesn’t!
4) The difference between reality and fiction? Fiction has to make sense.” Yesterday I was sitting in the lobby of my hotel after a complete failure at the Dulwich Picture Gallery (more about that later). Suddenly, I looked up and there was an utterly handsome man – utterly – in a dress with a scarf around his head. But it was not a usual dress and it was not a usual scarf. He was a Sultan and he was wearing the garb of his nation. I could not help myself and went over and commented about his handsomeness. He was accompanied by an aide or two. He definitely looked the part and he had a name tag around his neck which did have the word Sultan upon it. I do get away with a lot because I am 76 – I throw caution to the winds and say what comes to mind. He seemed quite pleased – and his aide (who must have been blind) called me beautiful. I showed them my blog on my phone (I cannot find my blog cards at the moment). I was utterly blown away but this awe deepened when I Googled Sultan. My goodness gracious me, they are Royalty. Wikipedia told me: “Sultan, pronounced [sʊlˈtˤɑːn, solˈtˤɑːn]) is a position with several historical meanings. Originally, it was an Arabic abstract noun meaning “strength”, “authority”, “rulership”, derived from the verbal noun سلطة sulṭah, meaning “authority” or “power”. Later, it came to be used as the title of certain rulers who claimed almost full sovereignty in practical terms (i.e., the lack of dependence on any higher ruler), albeit without claiming the overall caliphate, or to refer to a powerful governor of a province within the caliphate. The term is distinct from king (ملك malik), despite both referring to a sovereign ruler. The use of “sultan” is restricted to Muslim countries, where the title carries religious significance, contrasting the more secular king, which is used in both Muslim and non-Muslim countries. In recent years, “sultan” has been gradually replaced by “king” by contemporary hereditary rulers who wish to emphasize their secular authority under the rule of law. A notable example is Morocco, whose monarch changed his title from sultan to king in 1957.”
I was most impressed, to say the least. Then I also read that a Sultan could have more than one wife. Hmmmmm. I do not like the heat so living in his country might be uncomfortable, but what if I were the London wife??? I clearly have a vivid imagination BUT I did meet him, converse with he and his aide and showed them the blog on my phone. It is impossible to reach me through the blog but just in case I did email Chris, my blog master, to tell him that if a Sultan called, to put him through. Hahahaha”
I spoke to people at the hotel about this encounter and said that I had never met Royalty before, this was a first for me. So I have met (and befriended) someone with a great deal of money but never Royalty. There is a first time for everything. Little did I (or anyone) know the repercussions of taking on a blog. What is a repercussion? …… Its shock waves and reverberations have been immense, actually too huge to even contemplate. I do not owe my income, my ‘wealth’ to the blog, that income is derived from my work as a lawyer at the County of Marin. But this strange, rather esoteric, life style is all due to the blog. It gives me confidence and daring – people tr to use me and my blog and end up being used and/or transfixed. Esoteric’s synonyms? ….. Now I have an abstruse, rarified, enigmatic and inscrutable life style. One that is unfathomable and mysterious. It has served to alienate me from former friends, family and jealous women. But I cannot go back, I do think about it, but I cannot. On that serious note, I shall end.”
What happened next?? Well a couple of days later a man in Western clothes said to me:
He: Hello Its me. The Sultan.
Me: I would know those eyes anywhere.
We had a long and interesting conversation which began with me telling him I had written about him, reading the blog to him. I blushed realizing I proposed to him, saying I would be the London wife. We talked for a long time, he walked me to the elevator., he got off on the second floor. Tune in later to discover who he was. I was to discover years later that he could not marry me. He can only marry within three families. Only Middle East families, none are Dryburghs from Scotland, Hahaha
Photos include me kissing a camel, photos of rare doubled humped Chinese camels found in Saudi Arabia. A reel (if Chris manages it) of me refusing to kiss a camel because I was not feeling romantic toward it (and neither will you.)
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6Q0z4xsxMPr-vM1LWxEbHn85p6he78y1eEQ_g0/?igsh=eHlieWx4MDZrdDE2
