Fire Festival

I have watched the waves dance on the shore of a land where people were stolen and taken far away from their homes to never return. On my journey here I stood in awe at the base of the tallest man-made structure in the world. I have befriended legends and watched their lives change for the good. Now I have experienced the Fire Festival of the northern region and I am changed in many ways.

The precious fleeting good moments seem so few and far between in our lives when taken with the day to day efforts of simply living. If we are fortunate we are present in that moment and feel it in its entirety. This occurred with the Bugum Chugu, or Fire Festival. 

As our team gathered in the dark outside of our home large clouds and flashing lightning were rolling in from Togo to the east. The wind was blowing swiftly through the trees and there was a cool quality to it not unlike the October evenings back home. The energy in the air was palpable. 
We traveled south on our motorcycles to the village of Nasamba. Our friend Abdulai had cut and bundled dried grasses for us to use in the ceremony. I wasn't sure what to expect but we were to take part. This was definitely an exciting development. 

The Fire Festival is a centuries-old tradition that has roots in the traditional calendar. The festival is the celebration of the ending of the current year and beginning of the new year. Oral tradition has it that a young boy once fell asleep under a tree outside of his village. The parents searched and searched for him but could not find him. When the search party that had gathered found him sleeping under the tree they declared the tree must be cursed and shamed the tree and set fire to it. The festival now has many villages that gather up bundled dried grasses for torches that are cast at a large tree. Shame is declared for whatever bad has happened to the person throughout the year. More than anything, however, the festival is seen as a way to honor ancestors. A calabash is often set aside in the home. Things the ancestor enjoyed are put inside of it like small pieces of meat or cigarettes.

As we arrived in Nasamba the children had gathered outside of the chief's palace. They were covered in white powder and dressed as warriors. They had hundreds of bundles of dried grasses. The ceremony begins when the drummers arrive and the land priest lights the first bundle with the chief and the elders. It is at that point everyone is allowed to light their own. In moments you are surrounded by fire and smoke. The drummers then lead the people into the bush and into the darkness of the night, the drums thumping out a steady rhythm and the multitude gathered chanting. Bomp bomp bomp-bomp O-YA! Bomp bomp bomp-bomp O-YA!

Everyone dances and chants all while waving their torches all around. The darkness eventually enveloped the entire group and what appeared to be hundreds of torches illuminated the night sky. The intensity of the moment was magnified as young men in their warrior attire ran through the crowd dragging their machetes along the rocky ground while wailing into the night.

The bodies that surrounded me undulated with the drumming and the chanting increased. There was a celebratory but ominous feeling to it all that is difficult to describe. It was at that point I realized the clouds that were moving our direction had seemed to stop. It was as if they were holding back the rain that had earlier threatened the lighting of the torches. 

We arrived at a certain point and the chief and elders cast their torches at an area I could not get to through the crowd. We all threw our torches into the ground ahead of us. I declared shame on things that had troubled me in the previous year. 

The crowd then turned back towards the village and the chanting and drumming increased in intensity. We trekked back to the village and ended at the chief's palace. All in all, it took 36 minutes but it seemed so much longer.

In my lifetime I've have considered myself so incredibly fortunate to have witnessed and experienced so many things. The Bugum Chugu was beautiful and haunting all at once. The people and culture here is like nothing I've ever experienced and I am better for knowing it, for immersing myself in it all and learning a love for a people who have welcomed me with open arms and hearts into their midst. 

Photo credit: Annie Risemberg