Timeless value of Adire

FUNKE ADETUTU writes that while Adire is a timeless fabric that has traversed the Nigerian shores, several factors make it a thorn in the flesh of local crafters


It is midday. The eerie quietness characteristic of this hour swoops down on the festooned market of Itoku in the rocky town of Abeokuta. The noise of the marketplace is drowned in the quietness of the hour, making it seem as if market is just picking up. But many traders, it seems, are smiling to the bank already.
A sloppy bend leads to the Adire section of the Itoku market from the adjoining Sapon road. Each side of the bend is lined with stalls made of corrugated iron sheets. Most of these stalls are packed full of different Adire fabrics that are the hallmarks of this ancient town. To the right in-between the booths, a narrow path leads to an open space where the local manufacturers of the Adire are situated.
Against this background, Fatima Adigun is working on a piece of fabric that has been soaked in the steaming dye solution called Aro in the local parlance. Her black brow is puckered in a furrow as she raises the fabric from the pail, smacking her lips in the process. To her left, a young boy is working on a piece of batik material. He places a wooden platform on which the pattern has been neatly crafted on the peach-coloured material, forming a sequential design in the process.
A few yards away, a middle-aged man is pouring a fresh dye solution into a blackened drum placed on a huge fire. He picks up a white linen material which he neatly spreads across a hackneyed dye-stained table, and begins to tie the edges in bits with a long string.
It’s quite amazing all the Adire fabrics gracing shops on the major road are produced in this little space. The settlement is made up of different families who turn out their works in bits, after which they are sold to the wholesalers who also double as retailers.
Madam Olorunse is the female family head of Agbo Ile Fatoki at the Kenta Odutola district, Itoku. She has been in the Adire business for 40 years. This afternoon, she sits atop a wooden stool under a timber makeshift shelter by the side of her home. Work is about to begin for the group of women she supervises. A bagful of blue-coloured powdery substance is placed in front of her and she carefully measures the required quantity into another polythene bag. Holding tightly the loose ends of the bag, she shakes it rigorously. She turns it over with both hands and looks intently at the mixture before she passes it to a young woman who has been sitting in front of her. She wipes her eyes with the edge of her wrapper, sniffles as the dusty particles enter them. Her eyes are red but they appear to perspire rather than tear.
“The first step is to get a large quantity of water to which we’ll add the Aro and other chemicals plus hot water,” Madam Olorunise tells me as she raises up her dye-soaked hands. “We know the right colour, depending on the kind of the Aro that we purchase.” Purple, green, golden, wine, are the popular colours in high demand. Therefore, they know the right kind of Aro to buy. The one with a more pronounced clarity on the water surface is the original, while the inferior kind is called Aro eni.
Adire as a trade began many years ago with the Alabere (knitters) who are also called Olowo odi in the local Yoruba language (the leftist), explains Madam Isiwatu Akinjobi, a shop owner at Itoku who has been in the trade for 50 years. The designs wrought on the Adire fabric vary and it started with Alaro Dudu in those days. There are some called Oniko, (the strings), while there are some others folded into neat pieces. There are some called Alakete (raffia). After the patterns have been carefully sketched on the fabric, it is soaked in the dye solution.
“First, we fold the material, like this for the Eleko (pap) design,” she explains, pointing at a blue-coloured fabric with a comb design on it. “We apply the pap on the textile via a flat piece of metal on which the patterns are neatly drawn.”
In the days of yore when the trade began, machines were nowhere. The crafters used their hands to make all the unique designs. At the time, any error on the fabric is regarded as a style. It comes out with this unusual uniqueness which cannot be ignored. Today, there are more modern designs created by the ingenuity of these local manufacturers with the aid of technology.
38-year-old Abisola Busa is the manager of Alhaja Lateefat Ogunyomi Trading Store. It is so-called because her mother started the business and does not want the trademark to go into extinction. Perhaps, she has one of the largest well-stocked stores with modern designs at Itoku. As someone who has experimented with both old and new designs, Busa explains that technology has taken over even the production of Adire, although it is not on a large scale. Therefore, they are inspired by foreign Ankara materials imported from other parts of Africa like Ghana.
“Most of the designs we do now, we look at the Ankara. We go to the market to see all these Ghana wax. We look at the design and think of how we can bring the design into Adire,” she says.
The difference between the old and modern designs, explains Busa, is that the uniqueness in the old designs are visible as most are handmade, unlike contemporary ones made with machines. “Our mothers sit down then, they don’t work. It is when their husbands go to the farm that they use their thread to do most of these things. When you see them, you see the uniqueness in the designs.”
Akinjobi agrees with Busa that the geometric symbols common in those days are no longer appealing to a segment of the market. “The ones founded by our mothers are different. We have modern ones that we created ourselves like the comb, Eleko designs because we realise that the taste of our customers are changing. There are some that we made with Jacquard material that we fold on the ground before we soak them in dye,” observes Akinjobi.
The crusade started by the Obasanjo administration towards encouraging the use of locally manufactured textile at all levels has helped bring back to limelight traditional fabric like Adire. This has forced many Nigerian designers to look inwards rather than outward to source for materials. Hence, there is a promising future for the Adire fabric as its designs traverse the shores of Nigeria. Most well-known local designers like Frank Oshodi, Ade Bakare, Remi Lagos, among others, have taken the Adire fabric to another level internationally.
“My collections always reflect my cultural heritage and historically relevant symbols that convey nostalgic messages. I also use a variety of interesting styles of Tie and Dye that are influenced strongly by traditional Nigerian printing and dying techniques,” says Oluremi Osholake, manageress, Remi Lagos.
Meanwhile, the business of Adire is expanding by the day, which the high influx of customers across the world testifies to. Busa has a customer in Jos, Plateau State, who buys Adire in large quantity. She uses them to make sandals, bags and toys which she exports.
“Patronage has been very encouraging,” Busa says, smiling. “I have a large order placed by some people who want to do weddings. They need it for Aso ebi (family traditional clothing). Many people are tired of Ankara or lace brocade. They need a change of taste. The laces are too expensive for most people, and they are not as durable as the Adire because they tend to fade off with time. They believe it’s not worth the trouble to spend so much on that kind of material.”
Though statistics indicate that the global textile production will grow by 25 percent in 2020; to which the Asian region will largely contribute, Nigeria seems to be nowhere near this. Countries like Asia have become a hub of textile trade after the abolition of the quota regime, since the start of 2005.
The challenge, therefore, is for government to assist local manufacturers like Madam Olorunise to have a solid value added textile base and invest heavily in the spinning sector. “Our trade suffers a great deal because government has not stepped in to assist us. If they had assisted us, the market for Adire would have gone beyond what is obtainable now. We need government to help us get the materials and expand this market. We need them to build a more modern and organised market for us. It will become a tourist centre where people can be conducted around and can have a first-hand experience of how it is produced,” says Busa.
The pain for Madam Olorunise is that government has not kept its promise to sink boreholes or provide pipe borne water for the community, since water is very crucial to her trade. “It’s been three years that we have told government our needs, but it is yet to do anything about it. There was a time that it promised to buy Aro for us which it is yet to do. We are just tired of airing our problems since they have not done anything to help us in the past,” she laments.
Traders also express displeasure at the ban placed on the importation of some chemicals used in making their products. Most of these products are smuggled into the country via Lagos and Kano.
“Adire business is a good one that government must really show interest in. The materials that we are using to make adire are contraband because none of them is being produced in Nigeria. By the time we travel to Lagos or Kano to get those materials, we encounter difficulties. We want government to look into that issue for us. We use brocade and some of them are manufactured outside the country. We also use foil which is not produced here in Nigeria,” says Akinjobi.