One of the most expensive problems Nigerians have created for themselves is the asho’ebi culture. It is a social practice now deeply entrenched in our weddings, birthdays and funerals, especially of prominent people.
In Yoruba language, ‘asho’ebi’ literally means ‘family cloth’, referring to the uniform fabric bought in large quantities and sold to interested persons connected to an event, to be worn during that event as a show of solidarity and support for the host. Originating from Yorubaland, this practice has spread across Nigeria, taking root in nearly every tribe and community.
In its early days, asho’ebi had a noble intention. It was meant to help hosts raise funds to offset event costs. Contributors would be given a uniform cloth as a token of appreciation and identification, while hosts ensured they were treated well — served food, drinks and given souvenirs.
Furthermore, at events where multiple asho’ebis exist, guests usually locate the person or group they support to register their presence and claim their privileges. Typically, they are then served food, drinks and souvenirs, sometimes even before the programme begins.
Over time, however, the culture has grown more complicated and elitist. Some events now feature two categories of asho’ebi — one very expensive and the other cheaper. Those who buy the premium fabric are treated as royalty: they sit in reserved areas decorated with round tables, luxury drinks, fine delicacies and gift packs waiting by their chairs. The others, who could only afford the cheaper version, are crammed into the general section — a “come one, come all” zone where chaos reigns. There, it is every man for himself: struggling for chairs, food, drinks and perhaps a plastic bowl or handkerchief as souvenir.
If you were ever content with your modest means, attending such an event could shatter that contentment. The asho’ebi culture lays bare the stark divide between the rich and the poor, widening a social gap already too deep.
How did we get here? Our unbridled love for imitation has brought us this far. Even amid biting economic hardship, Nigerians continue to follow the asho’ebi trend as if it were a badge of honour.
A neighbour lamented recently: “My stepbrother is getting married and the family decided on an asho’ebi of ₦30,000. As if that wasn’t enough, every family member was told to contribute ₦20,000 each. That is, excluding souvenirs we’re expected to buy.” Sewing the cloth, buying matching shoes and handbags were additional costs she could hardly afford. As a low-income earner, she confessed that failing to comply could cause serious rifts in her polygamous family. “It’s better for me to take an emergency loan than fail in my perceived obligations,” she added sadly.
Even worse is being added to a ‘committee of friends’ WhatsApp group without consent. Mrs Tis narrated: “My name was added to a group for a distant friend’s son’s wedding. The asho’ebi cost ₦25,000, and while the contribution was said to be ‘anything you’re comfortable with’, the first few people paid ₦100,000 each, followed by many who paid ₦50,000. I was lost. I could barely squeeze ₦20,000 from my tight budget just to protect my reputation. God knows I had better use for that money.”
Another woman recalled the humiliation she suffered for not buying asho’ebi: “I attended the wedding of a former governor’s daughter in Abuja without wearing the uniform, and the bouncers at the gate refused to let me in — even though I came with friends who wore it. I felt humiliated and had to wait in the car.”
Similarly, Mrs Rufus admitted she no longer attends weddings unless she buys the asho’ebi. “I now understand that buying asho’ebi covers your food and souvenir,” she explained. “So I don’t make the mistake of showing up without it.”
Indeed, many hosts charge more than double the actual price of the fabric to include food and souvenirs. “It’s not always so,” said Mummy Joy, “but sometimes hosts hand you your souvenir the moment you collect your uniform. That only happens with expensive asho’ebis, which are designed to pay for everything — even the gift you’ll take home.”
But is this culture truly healthy? It has become a subtle but powerful tool of class segregation. It is a trend that makes the ‘have-nots’ feel inferior to the ‘haves’. It fuels discontent and vanity, pushing many, especially young women, into resorting to desperate means just to ‘belong’.
Therefore, as much as possible, we should relieve people of this unnecessary burden. Instead of insisting on asho’ebi, hosts can simply choose a colour theme and sell only the headgear, as was once the tradition. Perhaps the financial strain of asho’ebi is one reason why many Nigerians have stopped giving gifts at weddings altogether.
The asho’ebi was once a symbol of unity and celebration. But now, it risks becoming a symbol of division and indebtedness.