Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

My Nnem wears scarves that tell stories of their own. Their forms are clear. Every single scarf she has ever worn has a form and structure with colors that arise all on their own. They are what scarves need to be, so they stand erect, when tied on a woman’s head or draped on her shoulders. Each scarf I have seen on Nnem’s head, tells a story of its own, in a tone that strikes a note or a lesson unlike no other.

It’s then no wonder that the world begins first for me these days, wondering, what scarf will I tie on my head? Does it tell a story? Does it set a tone, a mood for the day. I am a storyteller and a scarf wearer these days, because they leave a hunger for something close to eternity that I first observed with Nnem. Certainly some of us, will never wear scarves on our heads. Some have no idea how to begin even if they try. Some will wonder why even write about scarves. Some will skip these words all together. But I choose to begin this year with scarves for two reasons. 1) for the extraordinary story they tell: 2) to illustrate how they help me dream. In a year, where only the art of dreaming matters, scarves and their stories are my muse, beginning with my Nnem’s scarves.

There is a dark golden scarf with color like olives drizzled underneath a brilliant sunlight that tell a story all on its own. This scarf with large navy blue lines at the edge, next to strips of gold is the beginning of my devotion. It was the scarf Nnem wore on her wedding day with my Papa wearing a matching piece of the same scarf material on his head. This scarf, like most of the scarves worn by my mother are traditionally made, hand woven textiles from the Yoruba ethnic group of Nigeria, made also with a thread, that gave her a shine-shine look, so befitting for all the ways she shone brightly on her wedding day.

I have wrestled with the meaning of this image for a long time. My Nnem, an Igbo woman by birth, wore an Aso-Oke scarf on her head with an Aso-Oke midi-skirt for her church wedding to my father. Everything about her wedding attire gives a certain aura, a certain sense of power, a certain fearlessness drizzled with a certain light that can only be described as extraordinary for a woman named ‘Onyelo.’ The ordinary thing to do would have been to wear a long wedding gown, draped with lace with a train the length of mini car. I have tried to imagine whether she was warned or not, whether she wrestled with anyone or not, whether she had other options or not, or whether she simply stood her grounds. Either way, she stood and her grounds were loyal to her inner vision of how to live a creative life in an extraordinary way.

However and to whomever it may look on the outside, she didn’t care and this is the reason why I begin with Nnem’s scarves. There is no other way. I intend to give these scarves the power and time, for all the lessons they tell, even till this day. Keep Nnem’s scarves.