Anyway, when 1st of January showed up, I wasn't much for dancing. The year didn't start off too good and my mind was off jubilation. Little did I know that the dancer in me was not in agreement. So while I sat in my kitchen enjoying quality family time, a trap was being set for me. From somewhere in the distance the sounds of drums found there way into my father's compound and before I knew it, the beat took over. So I dragged my sister, grabbed my camera and headed off to catch the train.
The annual New Year dance involves dancing/walking round the village streets to vibrant singing supported by lively drumming and, short bursts of vigorous dancing supported by vigorous drumming. Now, the dancing is completely incomplete without a shaker called 'zek'. You attach this shaker to your body and it makes shaking sounds whenever you move. Being that we had no previous plans of dancing, we had no zek and if you don't get your zek at least a day before the fest, you're on a long thing. Fortunately, we were able to buy a couple for about twice the price i.e. N100 each.
Even though I like to feel like a village champion, every now and then I get proven otherwise. Before everything took off in full swing, my zek started falling off. So I had to reluctantly get urgent tying assistance from some all too eager intoxicated youths.
After dancing round the village for a couple of hours, we got tired and retired. On getting home, my little brother (who is only five) was gutted that he wasn't part of the dance. So, he insisted on wearing the zek about the house