Smart Sindara Makes 'Adire' Tie and Dye

Smart Sindara Makes Adire Tie and Dye

One sunny Saturday, Smart Sindara stood in front of a large bucket wearing an old T-shirt, an apron, and a mischievous smile.

“Today is the day I become a fashion designer!” she announced to her younger brothers Timi and Tami.

They were in Abeokuta visiting Great-Aunt Ronke, who was famous for her colorful adire cloths—beautiful Nigerian tie and dye fabric that looked like magic trapped in cotton.

Aunt Ronke chuckled. “Sindara, tie and dye is not just about color. It’s patience, precision, and pride in our heritage.”

Sindara nodded seriously. “I’m ready.”

First, they spread out a plain white cotton cloth on the table. Aunt Ronke showed them how to fold, twist, and tie it with rubber bands.

“It’s like folding secrets into the cloth,” whispered Sindara.

Timi squirted himself with water. “I think I folded mine into spaghetti!”

Next came the dyes. Aunt Ronke opened the bowls—indigo blue, sunset orange, leafy green, and deep purple. The colors sparkled under the sun.

“Be careful,” Aunt Ronke warned. “The dye will stain anything it touches—including noses.”

Sindara dipped a sponge into the indigo. “This is the traditional one, right?”

“Yes,” said Aunt Ronke proudly. “Indigo has been used in Yoruba land for centuries. Your great-grandmother used it.”

Sindara smiled and carefully dabbed the color onto the twisted cloth.

Then they waited.

And waited.

“Is it ready yet?” asked Tami after five minutes.

“No,” said Sindara, checking the time like a scientist. “Adire needs time to soak in its greatness.”

Finally, they untied the cloth. Sindara’s mouth dropped open.

Her cloth had swirling blue stars and crescent moons on a white background.

“It looks like the sky!” she gasped. “Sky Adire!”

Timi’s looked like mashed vegetables. Tami’s had one big green blob in the center.

Aunt Ronke clapped. “Every pattern is unique. That’s the beauty of adire. There’s no wrong design.”

Sindara’s chest swelled with pride.

That night, she spread her cloth on her bed like a royal banner. She imagined herself walking the runway in Lagos, in New York, in Paris—Adire by Smart Sindara.

But most of all, she thought about her great-grandmother, her aunt, her culture—and how something so old could still feel so new.

She whispered to herself before falling asleep, “I am not just wearing color. I am wearing history.”

And just like that, Smart Sindara drifted into dreams filled with fabric, fashion, and fireworks of dye in the sky.

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