A ligkaribe Poem - Ancestral ceremony

I have fond memories of attending these ceremonies, its one of the things i miss about being at home in ,Mawaza village, Zimbabwe. Mawaza is a remote village - the nearest telephone & electricity was 20km away, the primary school was about five km's there was no secondary school. it was in another village about 30kms out, whenever we set out to church every sunday morning we would look at those blue mountains in the distance and know that we were headed beyond the mountains. There was no tap water we walked 5min to the borehole, and there was one general dealer at the busstop. because we were remote busses used to pass by our viallge at night, they were very few and you had to be at the busstop at three in the morning in case you missed it. it was a carefree existnce really, vey original village life. i'm happy to have had the experience.

Ancestral ceremony
Arising from dusty floor of the mud hut
To the beat of drums
Calling in the distance
Throwing away the warm covers
And stepping from the warm cowhide bed
Towards the beckoning, drum beats
Loud and melodious in the silence of august night

Follow the drums, everyone is welcome here
Welcome to the dance, the moonlight dance
Sing and clap,
Take of your shoes, no dagga in your pockets
Lest you anger the ancestors
The ceaseless strong beat
The old woman dancing,
The young women singing and clapping
The renewal of blood bonds
The signing of a covenant
The ancestors are jealous people
They must be appeased tonight
Thank them for another year
Praise them for another harvest
Everyone is welcome here
Everyone can chase away their bad luck