What Do I Plead if I ‘Knock’ Mutiu, My Tailor on the Head?

This is no joking matter. I wrote about it some years back and I thought that would be the last time.

Have you ever had to do some dancing in front of the toilet bowl because the rope or cord or string to undo the waist of your trouser or ‘Sokoto’ is stuck? You know those Sokotos and Bubas with or without Agbada. I have quarreled with my local tailors always, explaining to them that on no account should they join the rope.

Mutiu, my current tailor had promised that it would never happen again, after my last excruciating experience and the serious mouth lashing I gave to him.

It happened again yesterday!

You know the setting – you feel like quickly doing the thing and you yank the cord and wham, it’s stuck. Then you struggle to undo it because you may not even be seeing the tied-up place. Especially, and especially when you have had to come to terms with the reality of never being able to see your down-below except with the aid of a mirror, due to the beer gut protrusion, so you will be attempting to untie the knots blindly while doing the tango!

The dancing continues as to try and suppress any accidental discharge. Woe betide you if the twine breaks when you are trying to do the big one with some pressure on you. And then you may not be able to avoid an ‘accidental discharge’.

That is why I warned Mutiu and he promised on his mother’s grave that it will never happen again – that he will never join any cord or twine or rope that is for my trouser or Sokoto waist. And I believed him.

But today, I swore I will kill this tailor someday! Because the latest one outfit he made which I never bothered to check because of his promise on his mother’s grave, nearly sent me to an early grave. But I defeated him! The good Lord had prompted the Federal Road Safety Commission to list razor blade as one of the items you must have in a car, but I keep mine in my wallet which I carry on me always, anyway. So the blade came to the rescue after about 10 minutes of dancing Ajasco, Ikwokirikwo and tango in front inside the john for an urgent big one. To make everything more agonizing, some buffoon was knocking on the door every 10 seconds!

If this has not happened to you, you may not understand it. It is better experienced than to read about it.

Some friends said why did I not tell Mutiu to use elastic. Hmmm. Elastic? When you have our type of waist, elastic can be quite uncomfortable when it is tight and leaves mark on the waist when too tight, or embarrassing if not tight enough and you have to stuff things like phones and heavy wallet. Then the thing may just sag, and if you are not careful, the trouser may land on the floor or you end up holding it up till you get home.

I hate having to describe how excruciating the experience can be. These ropes ‘joined’ by tailors to hold the pants up. In fact, it can be especially traumatic, except for the ‘good’ feeling you have after coming through the whole experience. But at that time when you could not find the knot and mother nature is literally rumbling through your anal pipes to spill your guts all over the insides of your trousers, all you think about aside from cutting the rope is cutting the tailor’s head off because you had given him a standing order to keep my ropes unjoined and free.

Some people claim they do not use rope at all. It is either elastic, or they create opening in the front, the boxer type that makes a quick one possible. But this only works if it is just to take a leak. Some guys said they had long resorted to buttons. But even buttons are not fool proof. Button will either be too tight or loose a bit, depending on whether you just ate or put on weight suddenly.

I remember when we went with some friends on one of those ‘leisurely’ bus trips years ago to attend a funeral and at one of those stops in Ore in Ondo State, one of us had his rope well knotted and was in such a fix that his woman had to kneel in front of him to untie the knot with her teeth, after all else had failed. I am not sure she will ever forgive the tailor because if not that we were all witnesses to his predicament, what would have gone through our mind seeing her kneeling in front of the man in a toilet that was not too clean anyway? And what would the other passengers be thinking of the dutiful woman?

And what if her desperate teeth missed the stubborn knotty rope and bite something else?

And a friend told me how he once spent a night at a friend’s apartment years ago because they stayed late partying. My friend needed to use the rest room and the Sokoto rope refused to budge. And he was desperately pressed. His host friend had to bring out a kitchen knife to cut the rope. They had drank plenty at the party and he said he was lucky it was just the rope his host cut in his drunken state. He could have done some real bad damage to you know what!

So this is not a funny matter at all. If you have not been through it, you would not appreciate the enormity of the pressure this small rope puts on you. And I am not an elastic fan at all, in view of the fact that even elastic can malfunction. It can snap or become loose as sometimes happen to undies.

Whichever way, Mutiu the Tailor will see pepper today.

For you women who thinks this only a man’s problem, relive the experience of my friend’s ‘Sokoto’ in Ore and you will see how the matter ‘concern’ you.

 

IMAGE CREDIT: researchgate.net, pinterest.com

 

Epa Ogie Eboigbe, veteran journalist, broadcaster and public affairs specialist writes on, and analyses current and historical issues with a ‘wise pen’.

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