‘A person’s unique style, especially if it is fashionable and cool’

‘A slang term that combines the words stylish and easy’

‘Fashionably elegant’

There are these photographs of my mother and her friends, when she was living in Liverpool as a young woman. I was never tired of staring at them as a child. The women had these ‘Beehive’ style wigs which were the rave in the sixties, with colourful blouses, tasteful mini-skirts and boots. My mother and her friends looked fabulous! I always loved to watch my mother dress up. She has always been a beautiful woman, and I used to tease my father about how he should have counted himself lucky to have her. He would smugly reply that he was not bad looking himself as a young man, which was true. There is this photograph of my parents, immaculately dressed and dancing at a ball, they looked like models in a magazine. It is a word that has always been there, but thanks to Gen Z, it is now going to be a part of our regular vocabulary going forward. My parents had Steeze.

My father was a civil servant, and he always wore a complete suit to the office. He would occasionally wear a ‘Safari’ suit which was also fashionable then, but he preferred formal suits. He was from the old school of ‘dress the way you would like to be addressed’ and he raised us that way. On the few occasions I dared to wear something deemed inappropriate around the house he would glower at me and give me a lecture. While my father’s sartorial lessons were more about appropriateness, it was from my mother that I learnt about fashion and style as a tool for self-empowerment. My mother always used to say in Yoruba, ‘You don’t want people to take a look at you and ask, ‘Se ko si?’ ‘Is there a problem’? My mother’s lessons were not just about what to wear, how and where. They were about the importance of comportment, confidence, self-esteem and self-care. My mother passed on the lesson that women’s lives tend to be full of challenges, barriers to overcome and relationships to be managed. Whether it was dealing with husbands, children, co-wives, side-chicks, elderly parents, absentee fathers, in-laws, neighbours, friends, co-workers or co-traders, you cannot let the world read all your struggles on your face and appearance. Do not give people the opportunity to ask you ‘Se ko si’, even when there is a problem. When you go around looking the way you feel, you give your ‘enemies’ an opportunity to figure out that ‘Nkwan wa’ (there is something wrong), and they will have cause to rejoice at your expense. The solution to this? Steeze.

Recently, the annual Ojude-Oba festival took place in Ijebu-Ode. It began circa 1892, as a modest gathering of age-groups known as ‘Regberegbe’ who would present themselves to the paramount ruler to pay homage. As the years went by and Ijebu sons and daughters became more prosperous and successful, the annual Ojude-Oba gatherings became increasingly glamourous and better organised. With numerous Ijebu people as successful professionals, entrepreneurs, politicians and leaders in all spheres of life, Ojude-Oba evolved into a world-class spectacle of breath-taking fashion parades, master classes in sartorial elegance and comportment, choreography, dazzling colour combinations, calvary displays, most of it now recorded for posterity with professional photography and video recordings. Steeze. For one day, the men and women set aside their worries and just Steeze. The women all show up in Iro and Buba, made from different kinds of fabric – Aso Oke, lace, damask, Adire. There are no attempts to squeeze into dubious styles put together by adventurous ‘designers’, with no regard for body shape or size and encouraged by their eccentric customers. There is nothing gaping in front and everyone comes with their own (well, as far as we can see) backside. All this teaches another valuable Steeze lesson – less is more and you can be sexy without looking trashy.

The Ijebus do not have a monopoly over Steeze. Almost every Yoruba community has the equivalent of the Ojude-Oba festival where citizens of all social classes pay homage to the traditional ruler. The other Yoruba communities might not have the same kind of sponsorship and rigorous promotion that the Ojude-Oba festival has, but the point is, these gatherings offer an opportunity to remind people of who they are. Proud people with a history and rich culture, people of aspiration and distinction, with a respect for industry and progress. People with the most beautiful fabrics and adornments you can imagine, dancing with flawless grace and aplomb. Not people who want to sulk around so they can be asked, ‘Se ko si’. They live their lives every day knowing that ‘Nkan wa’, ‘there is a problem’, but for one day, they are willing to set that aside and show up as fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters with all the Steeze they can muster.

Of course there is a downside to this. The Yorubas say ‘Aso nla ko ni eniyan nla’ (great clothes do not make a person great) so we might never know the in-fighting, rivalry and jealousy within the different ‘Regberegbes’.  We will not have details of how members struggle to keep up with what must be growing annual bills to sustain the Steeze and outdo the other groups, at a time when everyone is faced with galloping costs of living. However, let us look at what we do know. We know that the Steeze provides opportunities to support local industries and enterprise. The Aso-Oke, (the distinctive handwoven fabric indigenous to the Yorubas but now used by ethnic groups around the country and in the Diaspora), the Adire, the lace, damask, brocade, jewelry, shoes, bags, hand-fans, tailors, make-up artistes and all other Steeze paraphernalia, are provided by members of the Regberegbes or people close to them. There are the hotels, restaurants, bars, caterers, musicians, transporters, photographers, videographers, filling stations and petty traders who do brisk business during this period. There was a time when there was unhealthy competition in some of the female Regberegbes, so it was decided that not only would their outfits be uniform, their accessories (jewelry, shoes and bags) would be too. This took the wind out of the sails of members with a propensity for ‘pepper them’. With the accidental popularity of the Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses worn by a beautiful Auntie at the festival this year, I hope her group keeps an eye on that and shuts down the need for everyone to show up in Bulgari or Versace sunglasses in 2025.

I would like to see our governments at State and Federal level move beyond rhetoric and take local tourism more seriously. We need the required investments in infrastructure, security, tourism experts, personnel and other resources. Imagine what the potential would be like, if we could scale up local festivals all over the country. Tourists around the world would be rushing to us and not the other way round. It would be great if the organisers of the Ojude-Oba festival and others like it could think ahead and plan for larger venues and adequate security. It would be a shame if the increasing profile of the festival was marred with logistical difficulties. Even the famous Notting Hill Carnival in London has fallen prey to this.

Thank you, Gen Z, for your appreciation of the beauty and elegance on display at the Ojude-Oba festival, and the re-introduction of Steeze into our vocabulary. The amazing photography this year (led by young professionals) also threw up the iconic image of Mr Farooq Oreagba, who was captured minding his own business mounted on his horse, dressed in his yellow and green Aso-Oke agbada, with a cigar in his mouth and his tattooed arms pulling on the reins. He became an overnight online sensation. His backstory of being a successful financial expert, who is also a cancer survivor, drives home the point of what such a gathering is all about in the first place. It is about gracefully showing up to showcase history, culture, thanksgiving, gratitude, hope, community, service, solidarity and victory against all odds. This is the ultimate Steeze.

Bisi Adeleye-Fayemi is a Gender Specialist, Policy Advocate and Writer. She is the Founder of Abovewhispers.com, an online community for women. She can be reached at BAF@abovewhispers.com