Prisca (SVC) Chigozirim
@chigozirimprisca614699
11 months ago
OUR CULTURAL HERITAGE
Fantasizing about my village every day has become my daily task after daddy told us stories about it, especially about the local drum.
I am so sure his father must have told him the story; the same way he is portraying it to us.
When I received the news that we are traveling to the village, I was so elated. I couldn't wait, so I prayed for days to run so fast.
Finally, we arrived at my hometown, Akokwa. It's a small town with six villages. It's located in the northern side of the south-eastern part of western Africa, Nigeria.
Not only that, but it was naturally blessed with trees that served man and also provided habitat for some aerial animals.
The Christmas weather, smell and the grooving movement of people that just arrived made it feel so natural and increased my excitement.
Was I the only one that was feeling that? I was having this ancient feeling of home in me. On a second thought, I thought it was just coming from the illusion I was having about the story.
On the second day of our arrival, we moved down to the village main square, visited many old houses and finally decided to go take a look at the village center.
At the village center, the ancient "Ikoro", a huge, wooden, local drum was still laying there.
From my dad's story, the drum was only used during war. Back then, the warrior leaders will select the people that will carry it along with them.
They believed that their strength lies in the local drum, "Ikoro". Without it, they would be defeated by their enemies.
The drum, when beaten, produces a great sound that could be heard afar from the neighboring town. You can imagine that.
……
"GooooooooO GooooooooO!" Ikoro, the drum was heard.
I had to go towards the direction of the sound. When I arrived, someone was already addressing the people.
I went closer to hear what he was saying, but I saw something that shocked me.
One of the war leaders that was addressing the crowd looked so much like my dad. "Haiii! Was it my dad?" I shouted in surprise.
It couldn't have been my dad; this was so many years ago.
I was still battling, confused, when the man (my dad's lookalike) walked up to me.
"Hey, when did you arrive?"
At his question, I realized that I had gone back to the past. Wait, how did he know that I was going to come?
"Too many questions, dear. Let's go home because you will need to go back soon" he said, as if he was reading my mind.
On arrival at his house, I met an old woman, obviously his wife.
Again, she called me by my name, asked about mom, dad, and my other siblings. I wanted to quench my taste of curiosity, so I was bombarding this household with questions"
"Are you saying you are my great-grandfather?" I asked him.
"Yes I am but I am sure you didn't come all the way down here to know my identity. What brings you here, child?" He asked me.
"You ought to know, dad" I answered, realizing that I had called him dad.
"You won't have what you don't speak of, I want to hear it from the horse's mouth"
Obviously, I wanted to know why the strength of the village could lie on a wooden drum. The local drum wasn't even their God then, so how do one explain the fact?
"I wish I could answer that question, but I am not in the position to do that. The drum, "Ikoro", has existed since our creation. The only thing our father made us know was the fact that they can't go to war, leaving it behind".
"They believed so much in the Ikoro, it's our Cultural heritage" my great-grandfather said.
" Tell me, over there in the future, do you people still make use of the local drum?" His wife asked me.
" You wouldn't want to say that, it's been abandoned at the village square. No one regards it again" I had to say.
"Everyone now goes to church, preaches the Almighty God and No one believes in it again except me" I told him.
" Church? The white man? They must have eventually succeeded in bringing their beliefs over to us, obviously thinking that we are evil" my great-grandfather said feeling disappointed.
I then realized that the supposed call of war at the square earlier today was against the white men. That will surely be a futile one because where I come from, civilization has taken its normal place in my hometown, Akokwa.
He turned to ask me again, "Why do you say you still believe in the Ikoro? Your parents aren't like us anymore, are they?"
"No, they aren't. This is what I have been longing to ask someone and I think you will give me a suitable answer. There's this particular feeling of inheritance I still have over the local drum. I don't find it fetish even though I am a Christian".
" It's not evil to me, and I think my people should regard it as a cultural heritage given to them by the Almighty God. He created everything including whoever that made the "Ikoro" and whatsoever that was betrothed to the drum isn't my concern"
It's one of the reasons I love my hometown, the atmosphere around the local drum. I guess I am the only one feeling that seasonal love from the wooden creature, each time we visit home for Christmas.
"It's alright dear, I am glad someone gets to understand our heritage more than us. You have to go back to your people, though no one will notice your absence.
This all happened in your mind in a twinkle of time, unless you want to alter many things. Please leave now" he said and shoved me aside. I fell to the ground and opened my eyes to see myself right before the "Ikoro '', still at the village center. No one noticed.
"You have been standing and gazing at the drum for a while now. Do you find it that interesting, sister? A drum?" My older brother said as he came forward to where I was standing.
"It's not just a local drum, it's the " Ikoro", our Cultural heritage. I think the time when you all should realize that has come". I shouted at her.
Later on, I went home to tell mom and dad about my experience at the village center.
#NircleStories,
#NeighborhoodUnveiled and
#AfricanPlaces
11 months ago
