THE WAY WE WERE

During the four day celebration of Chueke’s burial ceremony, there were many events featured each day, but one event stood out. On the third day of the celebrations, a group of Nde Ikperikpe Ogu [Bende war dance] performers and dancers were out in the location of Afoukwu Umuenyere, raising and pumping up young and old men’s emotions with their music, dance and acts.

 

Ikperikpe Ogu is a Bende Igbo war dance. Through its music, dance and performance the Bende Igbos create a re-enactment of actions warriors experience in battle. Ikperikpe Ogu is a male dance—a medium through which warriors and hunters exhibit their accomplishments and tell their stories. Through the lyrics of its songs the lead singer recounts and tells stories of events that took place during battle or of an encounter with a carnivorous beast. It is a tradition through which those who went to war and returned are congratulated by society. Ikperikpe Ogu is a music danced with vigor and passion. The vibrancy of its music arouses a desire for war among Bende Igbos. In times of crisis, it is used to summon Bende to war or to prepare for war. And during the period of war, Ikperikpe Ogu is used to whip up courage and bolster the morale of our fighters. On a ceremonial basis Ikperikpe Ogu is only performed for men. All Bende males may dance to Ikperikpe Ogu. But not every man can drink from its ritual pot.

 

Okpo, Chueke’s eldest son, came to offer welcome gifts to members of Nde Ikperikpe Ogu. He was accompanied by his younger brother, Okorie, who carried okwa, a wooden bowl containing some oji ugo [Igbo native kolanut] and anu kporunku [dried meat]. He came out dressed in a typical Ikperikpe Ogu attire, tying aji around his waist with his akparaja [sword] fastened to his left waist band. He was bare-chested  and barefoot. He decorated his body with straight line designs of Nzu and Ufe [white clay and red camwood dye], from chest to toe. On his head he wore Okpu ugbo’gu [Bende war hat] pinning two porcupine quill crisscross to the tail end of his hat; he clenched a bow made of omu Akwu [palm tree fronds] in his mouth. His face was painted with white, black and red colors. His left arm had a large bandana made of leopard and tiger skin, and he carried a gun. Okpo looked like a camouflaged hunter. As he approached within a few yards, he was recognized by the soloist who began to sing, calling him by his title name and making references to his father’s fame. Soon the master drummer, the soloist and the horn blower harmonized, each calling Okpo and praising him. The tempo intensified as the master drummer alternated the beats. And the sound from their instruments resonated, echoing and bouncing off three iroko trees in rhythm, rising and falling in unison. It was as if the three iroko trees were conductors as well as transmitting the sounds being produced. The lead performer, carrying a basket containing three skulls, danced with intense vigor, dancing and demonstrating a professional act not found in any other culture.

 

He had to maintain a disciplined composure necessary to balance the basket on his head at all times regardless of his moves. The dictates of Ikperikpe Ogu forbid the fall of Isi’kperikpe. The beat intensified as the master drummer reacted to the cry of the horn. The lead performer, in demonstrating the story being told by the soloist and the horn man, moved his body in a graceful shiver similar to that of a jelly-fish. With his akparaja drawn, he moved forward towards the crowd but was prevented from entering the crowd of onlookers by his two guards. The guards who accompany the lead performer are not just ordinary men they are Dibia, traditionally members of Nde Oji isi Eleonwu, trained in crowd control and possessing the ability to detect problems and remedy or prevent them. They protect the lead performer from any harm and guard him from any possible attempts to violate the laws of Ikperikpe Ogu. They prevent anyone from attempting to cause the basket carried by the lead dancer to fall off his head. They also protect the crowd from the lead performer, who sometimes gets out of control.

 

Okpo danced to the beat, moving to the line of dancers and breaking through the  line to enter the circle where the master drummer, the horn man and all the instrumental players were doing what they know best. He got into the center, danced around for a moment and turning to the master drummer, raised his right hand. With his right foot off the ground about six inches high, he faced the East to shout his greetings, saluting and dropping both his hand and foot at the same time in a traditional Bende manner, saying, “Umuenyere kwonu! Alayi kwonu! Bende kwonu! Umunna kwozonu!” He repeated the same gesture at the conclusion of each salutation and faced a different cardinal point. To each of his salutations he received a response of Eewo! Okpo danced some more as the lead soloist continued enumerating Okpo’s achievements. Okpo, a man of his own right just like his father Chueke, had met all the traditional requirements of the land. He had been to wars and returned with severed heads. He married and had children. He proved to his people that he was a Bende. The soloist began to tell stories of Okpo’s achievements, while the horn blower relentlessly repeated Okpo’s name and the master drummer was busy drumming the two to a chorus tie. Then in a mimicking manner of a hunter stalking a beast, Okpo bent down, moving his body in a tiptoe fashion, a few feet away from the center of the dance, while clutching his homemade gun under his armpit. He stood up on one knee, while dragging his left foot on the ground, as the soloist opened with a new note, eulogizing and bequeathing praises to Chueke and his past. Okpo raised his gun, pointing it at a huge Udara [African apple tree] and pulled the trigger. The sound of his gun roaring like a passing ‘end-of-season’ thunder shook the town. The smell of black gunpowder filled the air and the impact of his heavily loaded gun brought down leaves and four fruits of Udara. He got up from his position and started dancing.

 

The carrier of Ite Odo [a ritual pot of Ikperikpe Ogu, whose contents are not shared by non-achievers] had just rested his pot on the ground while standing guard over it with his sword drawn. Okpo danced to the guard of Ite Odo, reaching for his agbo [cup] but the guardian of Ite Odo blocked his advances, demanding that Okpo attest to his worthiness before drinking from the pot. Okpo quickly turned to his brother Okorie and asked for his hunting bag. He took it and opened it for the guard to see. Okpo’s bag contained four skulls. He began to sing and leap like a wounded lion in dramatization of his act of bravery in battle. He sang, telling stories of how he defeated enemy soldiers, and how he killed a tiger one morning on his way to the farm. The guardian of Ite Odo responded with a song of acceptance, permitting Okpo to drink wine from the pot. Okpo reached into his hunting bag for a cup and filled it with mayi ngwo [raffia wine]. After drinking a mouthful, he poured the rest of it on the ground according to the libation ritual. Then he walked away to a reserved seat for the Elders and the nobles of battle. Before sitting down he shook hands with the Elders who were seated.

 

The music and performances continued. The lead dancer carrying the basket with the skulls danced to the platform where Okpo and the other Elders were sitting and rested his load squarely in front of Okpo. The dictates of Ikperikpe Ogu mandate that Isi’kperikpe ogu must not be rested in front of a non-achiever regardless of his wealth. Okpo got up and saluted all the kin and members of Ikperikpe Ogu. He then turned to his brother Okorie, and winked at him. Okorie produced the wooden bowl containing oji ugo, mkpi [a he-goat], four pots of raffia wine, a cock and seven mkpola and presented them to Nde Ikperikpe Ogu.

 

The lead performer danced around, then returned to Okpo and picked up his basket. He was helped by his two guards. He danced off clearing the crowd as he moved through it.

             

Sixteen days after Chueke’s death none of his missionary friends paid a visit to his family, nor did they send a message of condolence. Instead they warned their members and new converts not to attend any traditional burial ceremonies, saying that doing so would be equal to serving or worshipping two gods. Even Chueke’s two grandchildren who were deeply involved with Christian religions stayed away from the traditional rituals and ceremonies.

 

On the second day of celebrations, the Methodist priest, after having heard how grand the events were the day before, decided to go and take pictures of traditional performers. While taking pictures of masquerades he refused to pay traditional respect to Ajonkwu masquerade. Our tradition required certain tributes to be given to masquerades, and those who do not know what these tributes are must run away from approaching masquerade or risk being beaten or harmed. The minister and an aide who came to help him were mercilessly flogged and beaten to the ground by Ajonkwu Ugwueke. His camera was also seized and destroyed.

 

Upon hearing what had happened to the priest, the Roman Catholic priest came to town with two laymen missionaries. He came to take pictures which he intended to send back home to Rome, where it could be used to support and justify the notion that “African traditions are primitive and wild.” Everything worked well. He spent most of the afternoon capturing images that had never been exposed nor seen by anyone outside Bende. As the day and shows progressed, he found himself taking pictures of Ikperikpe ogu dancers. He focused his camera on the lead performer, who carried a square long basket containing skulls. Suddenly he noticed the crowd running away from him and heading towards his back. A large object covered his camera’s lens. He lowered his camera dropping it down from his face as it hung on his neck. He saw a man with a live cock dangling upside down in his left hand standing in front of him, wedging his body between him and the lead performer, who had his sword drawn. But as the lead performer raised his sword, the guard placed himself in front of the priest, shielding him. The man with the cock has just saved the priest from harm. The priest just stood, showing no fear and refusing to move. Instead he tried to take a close up picture of both the lead performer and his guard. After fending off the lead performer away from the priest, the guard returned, and using the cock in his hand as a whip, he beat the father several times all over his body, killing the cock. The priest suffered a broken nose and bruises to the head and body, and fell to the ground, unconscious. His camera was destroyed and his two companions ran away.

 

At the end of the third day, Elder Onwuchekwa (meaning death wait) announced to the guests and participants, “Umuenyere will end Chueke’s burial ceremony with the presentation of Edere tomorrow.” It was a surprise announcement because Edere was not in the program schedule. The guests were excited because there were many in the audience, including many Umuenyere citizens, who had never had the opportunity to watch Edere performed in their lifetime. Edere is indigenous to Umuenyere Alayi. It is a beautiful smooth Umuenyere dance and only danced by males regardless of their age. Edere is performed once every seven years. For ceremonies, Edere is only performed for men.

 

The last time that Edere was danced prior to this announcement was fourteen years ago. The generation who danced at that time had all left the villages and resided abroad. And those who were at home had long been influenced by their newfound “civilization.” Also, the master instrumentalist who played Edere for them, had died. Among citizens of Umuenyere who were unaware of the secret rehearsals, there were concerns of how well anyone other than the deceased master instrumentalist would perform. The young man who volunteered to play and lead the group of instrumentalists was only five years old when he danced Edere fourteen years ago. But he had proven himself through the many rehearsals as someone gifted and talented with the instruments of Edere. Even though he endured many hours of practice, some elders were skeptical of his ability to produce a quality professional performance. They feared he could not be able to uphold the dictates of Edere. The master drummer in charge of Edere’s large wooden drum is the leader of Edere instruments. He also sets the pace and tone of the dance. He must play his instrument and coordinate various other instruments, setting the pace of a dance speed and all the movements and sounds. Each complete round of Edere dance consists of three phases. Each segment of one phase is composed of a fifteen minute continuous dance and performance. The total time required to complete one round of performance is equal to forty five minutes. A master drummer or instrumentalist must not make mistakes, nor should he abruptly stop playing his instruments while dancing is in progress. His drumstick or any other instruments must not fall off his hands to the ground while performing his drumming.

 

On the last day of Chueke’s burial ceremony, Edere was performed. The young man who volunteered to play the instruments proved himself worthy of trust, making no mistakes. He performed with ingenuity, displaying outstanding excellence in the mastery of Edere instruments. He performed as if he was the original master instrumentalist. He was awarded the title of “Aka n’aku nkwa” [the hands of master drummer].

           

The presentation of Edere was the last event performed for Chueke. It also meant that every game in our tradition and all the rituals of the land had been fulfilled for him. After the performance of Edere, Elder, Elendu (meaning watching and waiting for Destiny), who, since the death of Chueke, became the oldest ranking elder, announced the scheduled closing ceremony of ritual and libation pouring in front of Chueke’s house. Our tradition mandates the pouring of wine, and asking for guidance and for a seal of approval from our ancestors before the start of any occasion. Before the start of Chueke’s burial ceremony a libation was poured. The closing libation was the second and last official libation to be poured for this occasion.

 

After the final libation of thanksgiving to our great ancestors and Ancestral Spirits for having provided us with guidance, health and protection during the four days celebrations, Elder Elendu gave a speech for the hundreds of people who had assembled for the final libation. He opened his speech by thanking all the guests, participants, kin, men and women of Umuenyere, and Alayi in general for the show of support in making Chueke’s burial ceremony a success. “I am proud that we have implemented Chueke’s wishes,” he said to them, adding, “through your performances, Chueke and our Ancestors are happy and smiling.”

 

Then he took time to address the issues concerning the attitudes of the two Reverend Ministers saying, “I thank you all for the way this four day event went by without any trouble. Except for the insubordination of the two priests. No one can point to a single incident of arrogance until the Ministers decided to behave the way they did.” He continued, “The behaviors of those ministers exemplified their lack of respect and disregard for our culture and traditions. “Since Chueke died,” he added, “None of them sent even a message of condolence to us.” Yet when Chueke was alive he was their friend, and he lavishly gave them gifts with all his heart. Instead, they repaid Chueke with dishonest deceits, manipulating our sons and daughters. They sold their religion while downgrading our own beliefs, culture and tradition. But they have the face to come here to take pictures which they would use to their best advantage. We have no regrets for them being whipped. I would like for them to leave our county. They cannot come here to dictate to us what we must do. Nor must we allow them to destroy and disobey the laws of our Ancestors. We shall not allow them to dictate to us how to live our lives. Nor do they have the right to distinguish between which culture and tradition is rightful for us in this land. “Just as we have no desire to impose our culture upon them. But we must always remember, “When a child has no defender, there is always a chance of someone younger punching him in the mouth.” Our way of life originates from our forefathers and we will continue to emulate and uphold them. It cannot be uprooted by force or through tricky slander.”

 

Then he reminded them of the agreement which Chueke and the other Elders secured from the court people—a treaty signed by The District Office Administration and Chueke, exempting Chueke’s people from tax payment. In that agreement it was also stipulated that the Priests and the District Officers would not interfere with any traditional ways of the land.

 

“The most important issue here,” Elendu said, “is that Chueke has been accorded everything that he believed in. And he deserved each and every one of our traditions, because Chueke was a natural role model and a follower of our traditions. His name is a genuine homage paid to our tradition and culture.” Elendu reminded his audience of Chueke’s warnings about the demise of our culture and traditions by Christianity and the behaviors of the young generation and their newfound “civilization.” But he re-emphasized Chueke’s thoughts, saying, “When all these changes, which are comparable to the darkened sky ready to pour rain, erupt, the smoothest plain of Bende shall erode itself away into rough unmanageable terrain.” He added, “Chueke died with our culture, and we buried him in our tradition. But my fear today is that our culture and tradition will be buried by the new generation and their newfound religion.