Seven Wonders of Igbo Customs #3

Masquerades

I love the Igbo masquerades. They are the third of the wondrous Igbo customs I want to share with you, and I’ll do it with a story.

The seed pods, seen close up.

The children start running at the clacking of hard seed pods from the road. The men pause in their conversations. The women suspend their wooden spoons over the soup they are stirring to keep it from spoiling and lift the pots off the fire.

I join the adults who are gathering in front of our house in Nanka, my husband’s village. We have finished our lunch of rice, plantain, and chicken stew. It is New Year’s Day and the masquerades are coming. I spot our two older children nearby, but Sam, the youngest at 15, is nowhere to be seen.

I love the Igbo word for masquerade, mmo. And I love knowing that every time we are in the village for the Christmas holidays, the masquerades will appear on New Year’s Day.

The bolder children run toward the gate, while adults cluster, talking in soft voices. My husband who has been napping upstairs comes down and reminds me to get Naira notes to have ready. “You need plenty of fifty and hundred Naira bills, nothing larger,” he says, as if I haven’t done this dozens of times before.

When I come back downstairs with my cache of notes in my pocket, the first masquerade has entered our compound. One of his followers plays an Igbo flute producing a melodic woody sound.

Mask worn by the masquerade

Mask worn by the masquerade

My eyes are on the masquerade as he moves forward with rapid steps, his body covered head to toe in faded dark blue rough-woven cotton fabric. His wooden mask is a dusty red, with a black chevron design surrounding small eye holes. Rows of yellow lines outline the eyes and indicate a nose and mouth. Long feathers protrude from the top of the mask. On his legs and around his waist he wears raffia bands with the rattles attached.

The adults move back, the women cowering behind the posts on our front veranda, as he comes toward us. Suddenly he leaps in the air and turns away, then turns swiftly and advances again, each step resonant with the rattles. His followers wave their whips, just missing the children hovering nearby.

He pauses, legs apart, and calls out in a high-pitched reedy mmo voice, “Mama Chinaku.” I realize my husband is trembling with fear. I move forward, though he tries to pull me back. “Show respect; don’t look at him directly,” my husband whispers as he realizes I’m not hesitating.

You can read the whole story, and see another photo of the band of seed pods, here.

Adichie All the Way

Americanah

Americanah

Greenwich, Connecticut, has chosen Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s novel Americanah as their town-wide read.

The program is called Greenwich Reads Together. I’ve been invited to speak on the evening of October 29 as part of the month-long series of events. I’ll also speak at Greenwich High School earlier that week.

This week I met with the Greenwich Library book group facilitated by my friend Susan. Her group had already read Americanah, so she had them read Adichie’s second novel, Half of a Yellow Sun this month. Since the novel takes place during the civil war in Nigeria, the Biafran War, and my memoir has several chapters about my experience of that war, she invited me to come. I enjoyed meeting the group and filling them in on what life was like in my husband’s village during the war.

Greenwich library is going to show the film Half of a Yellow Sun. It’s available on DVD but it didn’t get major distribution in this country. I may go.

Westport’s First PechaKucha 

The first PechaKucha event in Westport, Connecticut, was on Monday, Columbus Day. I spoke about Columbus’ discovery of America, and my own discovery of racial injustice. Within my twenty images, twenty seconds each, I talked about the Doctrine of Discovery, Junipero Serra, Nigerian masquerades, and the slave trade.

The other three presenters entertained us with an exploding sloth, mid-century furniture restoration, and a message in a bottle!

A man from Jamaica said I was the first white woman he had seen speak honestly and openly about the rights of indigenous peoples and racial justice. A couple of people thanked me for speaking on the topic. A few people became blog subscribers!

I loved the fast pace and tightness of the presentations. It was hard work, but worthwhile, to select the best images, choose the right words, and get the timing correct, all to convey my message.

We learned that there are PechaKucha events taking place in 850 cities around the world. Is there one near you?

Often they are in social settings like restaurants or clubs. Since ours was not, many of us we adjourned to the restaurant across the street from the library afterwards. I just had to order a gin-and-tonic to honor my comments about Nigeria.

Obama Announces Help  

Two days ago the White House announced that the U.S. is sending troops and drones to Cameroon to assist in the fight against Boko Haram.

I’m glad. President Buhari has said that Boko Haram will be defeated by year’s end, a revision from his three-month target of nearly two months ago.

 

Author: Catherine Onyemelukwe

Author, blogger, speaker. Born in New York, grew up in mid west United States, lived in Nigeria for 24 years, back in U.S. since 1986. Advocate for racial justice.

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