The Matrimonial dance (Nipok-fiak gogta)
Adan-leeeeeeeeeee!
The song cut through the waves
of the windy December night.
Mother hushes the children
as we scramble to the rooftops;
straining our ears to hear
the song and the news.
It is a nuptial announcement
But the song sounds faint and far
as the gentle harmattan breeze
carries the evening voices away.
We hush up in fear of missing
the name of the newly married man.
His father’s father’s name in fact!
The whole house is soundless and still
Awaiting the breeze and the voices
To bring home the glad tidings
Of the young man who has attained
The noble feat of marriage.
Excitement looms, hearts skip faster
And then acclaim and applause
As the breeze turns our way!
Names of the great-great grandfathers
of the groom are mentioned in song
and their appellations are intoned joyfully
Poking fun and mockery at competitors
Who are told to go and clear farmlands
having lost the race to marry the damsel.
The talk of the house turns to nuptials;
those who have recently married
And those eligible to wed
are the subject of our chatter.
There is a renewed urgency in our steps
And the work of cooking the evening meal
is carried on with new energy and intent.
Mother calls out to the kitchen
that sister should not “over hurry” the saab[1]
as big brother scurries into the room
to sort out trousers and his new boots
in preparation for the matrimonial dance.
Whispers, giggles, and excited babble
is all over the compound
as young boys and girls talk about
the impending nuptial dance
at the other end of the village.
For there the bride is destined.
Father forbade the young ones to go
for the night is dark and gloomy
with thick Harmattan dust
Impossible to see beyond one's nose!
Sister stumbles out coughing,
Weeping with smoke in her eyes
Tripping over firewood, spilling the salt
And upsetting kaponta[2] all over the floor.
In anger father forbids her going
And she saunters about sulking
whilst mother completes the cooking.
It is a vain command though
For go, she must, as many others like her.
They will scale the walls of the house
Walls normally considered high.
From all corners of the land,
Girls and even wives will scale
their fathers and husbands compounds
to mingle with their peers at the dance.
There will be no sleep tonight;
No rest for weary limbs.
Tonight is a celebration of continuity.
The old recall their own nuptials
and spring onto the dance floor
to shake old congealed limbs.
The young and youthful are eager
to catch the eyes of new admirers
and jump into the crowded floor
dancing with aptitude and vigor
as if possessed by the spirits
The children are not left out.
For they also must practice
to steady their limbs and steps.
as they will take over the mantle
in their own time.
Fowls are slaughtered;
money is flung or pressed on foreheads
and bottles of gin are drained
until bodies are numb to the cold
of the approaching dawn.
The elderly are always first to leave;
with loud perfunctory goodbyes
Whilst the young and youthful stay on,
Whilst the young and youthful stay on,
Dancing and drinking the night away.
Rubbing bodies in the nuptial dance.
Maidens showcase their form and skills,
to earn the admiration of young men.
And the men express their approval
by accepting the dancing invitations.
And the men express their approval
by accepting the dancing invitations.
Many acquaintances are struck
Friendships mooted
Lovers acquired
And the seeds of new nuptials sown.
As an enfeebled moon droops
And the sun creeps eastward to be born,
And the sun creeps eastward to be born,
An ecstatic night draws to a close
And we all steal back home
To rest aching limbs on wearied mats
In preparation for another day
And anticipating the next market day
When the ritual would be renewed.
[1] Saab - Thick porridge or paste made either from the flour of millet, maize or even sorghum and served with different soups. Also called Tuo zaafi
[2] Kaponta - light porridge used in preparing saab
[2] Kaponta - light porridge used in preparing saab
Woow i have really enjoyed this.
ReplyDeleteWaow !
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