The harmattan wind whispered through the compound, carrying dust and secrets. Chidinma stood in the center of the living room, her eyes bright with news that would change everything.
"I'm getting married," she announced, her voice a mix of excitement and trepidation.
The words hung in the air like ripe mangoes, heavy with promise and the threat of falling. Chief Ademola's face cracked into a wide grin, masking the panic that churned in his belly. Naira signs danced before his eyes, each one a reminder of the debt that clung to him like a second skin.
Aunty Amaka clapped her hands together, already mentally cataloging the preparations needed. "Ah! We must choose the Aso Ebi immediately. It's what your mother would have wanted."
At the mention of their mother, Ada's heart clenched like a fist. She turned away, her gaze falling on the faded photograph of Mama on the wall. The woman in the picture smiled, unknowing of the void she'd leave behind.
"Aso Ebi?" Ada's voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through the room like a machete through bush. "How can we..."
But her words were drowned out by the excited chatter of wedding plans. As Chidinma described her dream ceremony, Ada slipped out of the room, unnoticed. Outside, she pressed her back against the sun-warmed wall of the house, closing her eyes against the onslaught of memories.
In the living room, Chief Ademola's laughter boomed a little too loudly, a sound hollow as an empty gourd. His mind raced, calculating costs and favors owed. The price of maintaining appearances was steep, but what choice did he have? In Lagos, a man was only as good as his last celebration.
The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the compound. Inside, a family teetered on the edge of change, each member carrying their own weight of joy, sorrow, and secrets. The Aso Ebi fabric, yet unchosen, loomed in their futures – a tapestry waiting to be woven with their intertwined destinies.
~
Ada's fingers trembled as she traced the intricate patterns of the Aso Ebi fabric. The market bustled around her, a cacophony of haggling and laughter, but all she could hear was the soft susurration emanating from the cloth.
"Kedu?" she whispered, surprising herself with the Igbo greeting. The fabric seemed to ripple in response, its colors shifting like the scales of a maga lizard in sunlight.
"Nne, you go buy or you go just dey touch am like say na juju?" The market woman's voice snapped Ada back to reality. She blinked, realizing her cheeks were wet with tears she didn't remember shedding.
As she walked home, the newly purchased fabric tucked under her arm, memories assaulted her like the pungent aroma of ogiri from a neighbor's compound. Mama's laughter echoed in her ears, accompanied by the rhythmic sound of her sewing machine.
"Ada m," the phantom voice of her mother whispered, "remember, our clothes tell our stories."
At home, Chidinma's excited chatter about centerpieces and seating arrangements grated on Ada's nerves like sand in garri. She retreated to her room, spreading the Aso Ebi across her bed.
The whispers grew louder, a chorus of voices spanning generations. Ada closed her eyes, allowing the fabric's song to wash over her. Images flashed behind her eyelids: weddings, funerals, naming ceremonies - a tapestry of Ademola family history woven into every thread.
A sharp knock startled her. "Ada, come and help with the invitations!" Aunty Amaka's voice, usually warm as palm wine, now held an edge of impatience.
Ada's hand lingered on the fabric. For a moment, she thought she felt a heartbeat pulsing through the cloth, steady and familiar. Her mother's heartbeat.
"I'm coming," she called back, her voice thick with unshed tears. As she stood, the fabric slipped to the floor, its whispers fading to a murmur. But Ada knew, with a certainty that settled in her bones like harmattan dust, that the Aso Ebi held secrets - and it wasn't done talking yet.
~
The Aso Ebi fabric whispered its secrets in the dead of night, when Lagos' cacophony dimmed to a distant hum. Ada sat cross-legged on her bed, fingers tracing the intricate patterns that seemed to writhe under her touch.
"Show me," she murmured, and the fabric obliged.
In the warp and weft, she saw Chief Ademola, younger and more desperate, shaking hands with a man whose smile dripped with malice. Money changed hands, promises were made. The ancestral land, their heritage, bargained away like a sack of overripe plantains.
"Chei!" Ada gasped, the revelation hitting her like a slap from a wet towel.
Outside her room, floorboards creaked. Chidinma's voice, thick with sleep, called out, "Ada, you dey wake?"
Ada clutched the fabric to her chest, heart thundering. "I'm fine, just... bad dreams."
But the real nightmare unfolded in the cloth's whispers. She saw Aunty Amaka, tears streaking her face, burning letters in a kerosene flame. Their mother's voice echoed from the ashes, "Tell them the truth, Amaka. They deserve to know."
The fabric pulsed with more secrets: cousins who weren't cousins, debts deeper than the Lagos Lagoon, loves lost and found. Each revelation tightened around Ada's heart like a python, squeezing until she could barely breathe.
Dawn broke, painting the sky the color of smoked fish. Ada hadn't slept, her eyes red-rimmed and wild. The Aso Ebi lay innocently on her lap, its patterns once again static.
At breakfast, she watched her family with new eyes. Chief Ademola's laughter boomed false, Aunty Amaka's smile was brittle as overcooked chin-chin, and Chidinma... Chidinma glowed with a happiness that now seemed as fragile as a soap bubble.
Ada's tongue felt heavy with unspoken truths. She opened her mouth, then closed it, the words sticking in her throat like eba without enough soup.
The Aso Ebi had shown her the past, but the future... the future was a fabric yet to be woven. And Ada, with her newfound knowledge, held threads that could either mend or unravel her family forever.
~
The morning sun crept over Lagos like a thief, stealing the night's coolness and replacing it with a sticky heat that clung to skin like guilt. In the Ademola compound, chaos reigned supreme, a proper Nigerian wedding spectacle in the making.
Ada stood before the mirror, the Aso Ebi fabric hanging on her frame like a confession waiting to be made. The whispers had grown to a crescendo, a riot of voices clamoring to be heard.
"Shut up!" she hissed at her reflection, earning a concerned glance from a passing aunt.
Outside, the air crackled with tension and the aroma of jollof rice. Chief Ademola barked orders like a drill sergeant, his facade cracking under the weight of impending financial ruin.
Chidinma floated through the madness, a vision in white lace and denial. "Everything is perfect," she repeated, a mantra against the universe's entropy.
It was Aunty Amaka who lit the fuse. "Where is the bride price?" she asked innocently, unknowingly stepping on a landmine of secrets.
Chief Ademola's face turned the color of over-ripe paw-paw. "It's... it's taken care of," he stammered, sweat beading on his brow like palm oil on akara.
"Lies!" The word exploded from Ada's lips before she could stop it. The compound fell silent, even the ever-present Lagos traffic seemed to hold its breath.
"The land is gone," Ada continued, the Aso Ebi seeming to pulse with each revelation. "The house, the savings, everything. Papa has gambled it all away."
Gasps rippled through the gathering like waves on Bar Beach. Chidinma's perfect day crumbled like a badly made chin-chin.
"How dare you!" Chief Ademola roared, advancing on Ada with raised hand.
But Ada stood her ground, the fabric of her Aso Ebi rippling with ancestral strength. "And you, Aunty Amaka. Tell them about the letters. Tell them about our real father!"
The compound erupted into chaos. Guests whispered furiously, the caterers looked uncertainly at their pots of steaming food, and somewhere in the distance, a police siren wailed – a fitting soundtrack to the unraveling of the Ademola family tapestry.
In the eye of the storm, Ada stood, the Aso Ebi hugging her like a second skin. The truth had been spoken, for better or worse. Now, it was time to see what pattern the scattered threads of their family would weave.
~
The sun hung low in the sky, a ripe orange suspended over Lagos' skyline, as if waiting to see how the Ademola drama would unfold before setting. The compound, once a battleground of revelations, now lay quiet as a graveyard at midnight.
Inside the family's living room, the air was thick with unspoken words and the lingering aroma of abandoned party jollof. The Ademolas sat in a circle, their Aso Ebi fabric now a shared banner of both shame and resilience.
Chief Ademola cleared his throat, the sound like gravel in a blender. "I... I have brought disgrace upon us all."
Chidinma, her wedding gown now wrinkled as a market trader's naira notes, spoke up. "Papa, why didn't you tell us? We could have... we could have eaten garri and groundnuts. We didn't need all this show."
Aunty Amaka's laugh was hollow as a talking drum. "Show? My dear, in Lagos, show is all we have sometimes."
Ada sat silently, fingers tracing the patterns of her Aso Ebi. The fabric had fallen silent, its job of revelation complete. Now it was up to them to weave their future.
"The letters," Ada said softly. "Aunty Amaka, tell us about our real father."
As Aunty Amaka spoke, her words painting a picture of love, loss, and sacrifice, something shifted in the room. The Aso Ebi seemed to glow, threads of understanding weaving through the family.
Outside, the wedding guests had long departed, carrying tales that would fuel Lagos gossip for months. But inside, a different kind of ceremony was taking place – one of truth, forgiveness, and the painful birth of a new family dynamic.
As night fell, decisions were made. The grand wedding was off, but a smaller celebration would take place. Debts would be faced, truths acknowledged. The Ademola tapestry, once a glossy facade, was being rewoven into something authentic, its imperfections now part of its beauty.
Ada stood, smoothing her Aso Ebi. "Mama always said our clothes tell our stories," she mused. "Perhaps it's time we started telling true ones."
The family nodded, a united movement. As they stepped outside to face their new reality, the Aso Ebi rustled softly, no longer whispering secrets, but humming with the potential of stories yet to be told.
This story was generated by Perplexity.ai, usibng an AI-generated story synopsis and a series of preconceived prompts. (98% AI)
THEME (this is an AI-generated synopsis based on “typically Nigerian” things) : “In a small Nigerian town, the Ademola family is preparing for the wedding of their eldest daughter, Chidinma. As is customary, the family has chosen a vibrant Aso Ebi fabric, adorned with intricate patterns and colors, to wear on the big day. But beneath the surface of this joyful occasion, a dark secret threatens to tear the family apart. Chidinma's younger sister, Ada, has been struggling to come to terms with the loss of their mother, who passed away a year ago. The family's decision to wear Aso Ebi, a tradition that their mother had always cherished, brings back painful memories for Ada. As the wedding day approaches, Ada becomes increasingly withdrawn, unable to bear the thought of celebrating without her mother by her side. Meanwhile, the family's patriarch, Chief Ademola, is hiding a devastating secret: he is deeply in debt and has been forced to mortgage the family's ancestral home to pay for the wedding. The Aso Ebi fabric, which was meant to symbolize unity and joy, now serves as a reminder of the family's financial struggles and the sacrifices they must make to keep up appearances. As the wedding day draws near, tensions within the family come to a head. Ada's grief and anger boil over, causing her to lash out at her family and the tradition they hold so dear. In a dramatic confrontation, the family's secrets are finally revealed, and the true cost of their Aso Ebi is laid bare. Will the Ademola family be able to find a way to heal and come together, or will the weight of their secrets and sorrows tear them apart? The Fabric of Sorrow is a powerful exploration of the complexities of family, tradition, and the human experience.”
Prompt: Give three well-known works of literature that can be linked to the THEME. Also give three relevant movies. Finally, name one very good AUTHOR who could write an engaging short story in this genre. Finally, list all seven in one comma-separated list.
Things Fall Apart, Purple Hibiscus, The Joys of Motherhood, The Wedding Party, October 1, Lionheart, Sefi Atta
Prompt: For each character, list their personality traits (list in very short form and between parentheses: Myers-Briggs type, Big Five (OCEAN) scores (1-100), Enneagram type, wing, and instinctual variants, Attachment style and trauma responses, and Core beliefs, values, and fears). Also, name any notable Speech patterns (vocabulary, tone, recurring phrases), Non-verbal mannerisms and tells, Decision-making patterns, Emotional regulation style, and Interpersonal dynamics with other characters.
Chidinma Ademola (Bride-to-be)
(ESFJ, O:55 C:80 E:75 A:85 N:40, Enneagram 2w3 so/sx, Secure attachment, Tend-and-Befriend response, Core belief: Family harmony is paramount)
Speech: Polite, diplomatic, often uses phrases like "We should..."
Non-verbal: Warm smile, open gestures, maintains eye contact
Decision-making: Considers family opinions, seeks consensus
Emotional regulation: Expresses emotions openly but controlled
Interpersonal dynamics: Mediator in family conflicts, close but strained relationship with Ada
Ada Ademola (Younger sister)
(INFP, O:70 C:45 E:30 A:60 N:85, Enneagram 4w5 sp/sx, Anxious attachment, Freeze/Flight response, Core belief: I'm alone in my grief)
Speech: Quiet, introspective, occasional outbursts of raw emotion
Non-verbal: Avoids eye contact, hunched posture, fidgets with jewelry
Decision-making: Emotionally driven, often impulsive
Emotional regulation: Internalizes pain, prone to emotional outbursts
Interpersonal dynamics: Distant from family, conflicted relationship with Chidinma
Chief Ademola (Family patriarch)
(ESTJ, O:40 C:85 E:70 A:50 N:30, Enneagram 3w2 so/sp, Avoidant attachment, Fight response, Core belief: Appearances must be maintained at all costs)
Speech: Authoritative, uses traditional sayings, deflects personal questions
Non-verbal: Proud stance, forced smile in public, fidgets when discussing finances
Decision-making: Prioritizes family reputation, makes unilateral decisions
Emotional regulation: Suppresses emotions, occasional angry outbursts
Interpersonal dynamics: Distant but protective of daughters, conflict with Ada
Aunty Amaka (Family matriarch, added character)
(ENFJ, O:65 C:75 E:80 A:90 N:45, Enneagram 2w1 so/sx, Secure attachment, Tend-and-Befriend response, Core belief: Family traditions heal wounds)
Speech: Warm, uses endearments, often starts sentences with "My dear..."
Non-verbal: Frequent physical affection, expressive face
Decision-making: Balances tradition with empathy, seeks family input
Emotional regulation: Openly expressive, focuses on others' emotions
Interpersonal dynamics: Mediates between Ada and the rest of the family, supportive of Chidinma, respectful of Chief Ademola
Prompt: Explain the writing style of our AUTHOR. What makes them so special? What are the absolute highlights of their writing? Give writing samples that include our characters.
Sefi Atta is known for her insightful, nuanced portrayal of Nigerian life, particularly focusing on the complexities of family dynamics, societal expectations, and the struggles of women…
Prompt: Now get extremely creative / high temperature setting. List three highly idiosyncratic plot points that are not commonly associated with our THEME, but can somehow be linked with it anyway. Also list three completely unrelated and diverse newspaper headlines.
Highly idiosyncratic plot points:
A time-traveling griot accidentally swaps the Aso Ebi fabric with a futuristic, shape-shifting material that responds to the wearer's emotions, causing chaos at the wedding ceremony.
The ancestral home is revealed to be built on an ancient portal to the spirit world, and the family's financial troubles attract mischievous spirits who start manipulating the wedding preparations.
Ada discovers she has the ability to communicate with the patterns on the Aso Ebi fabric, uncovering a centuries-old secret society of textile-based telepaths who have been influencing Nigerian politics for generations.
Unrelated newspaper headlines:
"Sentient Cheese Demands Voting Rights in Swiss Referendum"
"World's First Underwater Disco Opens in Mariana Trench, Anglerfish DJ Takes Center Stage"
"Scientists Confirm: Socks Really Do Disappear into Parallel Universe via Dryer Portals"
Prompt: Use zero or one of the most brilliant ideas among those, but respect our overarching plot. Also weave in a common trope or two. Give an outline for our five-part short story. Think like our AUTHOR, while they are inspired by our THEME.
Prompt: Write out part [1,2,3,4,5] in the very characteristic or even exaggerated style of our AUTHOR. Be unorthodox, don't settle for the most characteristic token each time. Use anywhere between 100-400 words for this part, no repeats, no fluff.
I'm an unsophisticated American, so I'll stick with the Lewis Carrol reference :P And yes, I realize he's British...
Everything is so detailed.
That’s something I struggle with— adding adjectives to describe things with more detail.