When Oyinda asked Yoruba women to share their Gele pictures from when they were younger, nobody expected what followed. The internet suddenly became a beautiful gallery of Gele old photographs, childhood memories, mothers and daughters, and generations of Yoruba women proudly displaying a tradition they grew up with. Every picture told a story. Every Gele carried a memory. It was more than fashion, it was a connection to home, family, culture and identity. As I watched the pictures flood the internet, I began to wonder, where were those igbo/ ibo voices that have been trying to claim Gele as their own? Where were the people who suddenly discovered an interest in a tradition that Yoruba women have practised for generations? I expected them to join the challenge. After all, if Gele has always been part of their cultural heritage, this was the perfect opportunity to show us those childhood pictures too. But the pictures kept coming from Yoruba women, while the expected voices remained strangely quiet. And that is when the irony struck me. You can argue on social media, you can make claims, and you can attempt to rewrite cultural history, but a simple collection of old photographs can tell a story that arguments cannot. Culture is not something you acquire overnight because it has become fashionable. It is lived, inherited, practised and passed down through generations. There is a difference between appreciating another people's culture and attempting to claim it as your own. The internet has become a gallery of Yoruba Gele, and the pictures speak for themselves. You can borrow the style, admire the beauty and even learn how to tie it. But you cannot manufacture another people's history. Some people call it cultural appropriation. I call it trying to claim a heritage that generations of people can already prove is theirs.