A Treasured Heritage

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My home from church is a 30 minutes walk.
So it’s Sunday. A Sabbath preserved and dedicated to consecration, sacred and holy.
I hurriedly ate my breakfast. It was a plate of cooked Yam and fried Egg. I kicked my boots a go and headed to church.

While I was going, after a trek of about twenty minutes, almost reached church. I  could hear the drums, gun shots, people’s chant, wavy bodies and dancing steps. I saw hundred of heads encircle a mighty beast. “What’s all these?” My eyes really can’t relate the visioned drama to pass it off the Brain to amplify. Indeed a horrific Figure. It wore a carved helmet that frightens peace and call on fear. With great enthusiasm, the trooping crowd cheered the great styled Beast with traditional praise songs.

I held my Bible firm and close. Stood at a corner and watch the helmeted Robot dance. “Oh! How it moves.” I checked the time. It was 8:30am and I was late for the Sunday school class already. I need gear my ass! A little further. A similar creature parade the roads that they were blocked. Drivers and motorist had no choice but to make a u-turn. This is serious. This one is more gigantic and of a height that touches heaven. It’s step beams that the rocks cracked and grounds were shaken. It’s got a more weird and frightening sounds.
They were two.

What further deepened my thoughts and aroused my reasoning cells were the crusading turnouts of Youths, children and grownups. I watched them smoke, drink and abuse drugs. Women in their eight’s and girls in their prime fostered joy and delight in escorting the creatures. I saw balded men and old bearded men chew kolanuts and expressly declare their trust and belief in them . What a people!

And while I was still standing, my phone beeped to alert my lateness for church service. “The time is 9 o clock”! I fled the place to church.

It’s 11:30am. After church service. It had been more than three hours and these people aren’t retiring. The game isn’t over. They just started.
To heal my wound of curiosity, I invited a boy from the crowd to put me through. I had expected him to say shabby words and go. It was a long storied event. For hours, the six year old boy drive me round the web of historical facts about the celebrated tradition.

THESE CREATURES ARE MASQUERADES!

I was chanced to visit a shrine that houses the horrible creatures. I saw a fetish hut and perceived slaughtered goats. A tree, grown for more than 30years ago had its own house though not roofed but had it’s walls and floored ground. It had some calabash and broken kolanut offered to it. Palm leaves were knotted round its buds and had some cowries hanging its branches.
I saw a long queue and the advantaged removed caps and head ties,kneeling before it. Their wishes and prayers.

A tradition that speaks the culture and depicts historical facts. And in unity these people marched the whole community, keeping their heritage in a well treasured safe.

 

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