The festival of Suru-Gede; the dance of the spirits.

Description of What I See

I see a strong and beautiful young lady on her traditional embroidery outfit and a black turban on her head. Judging from her looks, I’ll say she’s from Asia. She has this mixture of artistic green and red paint adorned on her face. Her makeup is thick with long curly lashes.

Judging from the background of the picture, you can also tell that there is a festival going on even though that part seem to be blurred out to concentrate on the lady that appears to keep a serious face.

Description of What I Feel

From her facial expression, you can tell that she’s deeply focus at that moment and won’t entertain any form distraction that will make her loose concentration.

We’ve this “iriya ceremony” in my community in okrika located in Rivers state, where maidens are decorated with some sort of artistic ink on their body as a means of identification. It signifies that this ladies are virgins and ready for marriage.

So, looking at this lady face paint, that was the first thing that came to my mind. It’s a way of identifying her to a particular custom and tradition in her community.

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Story: The dance of the spirits.

The festival of Suru-Gede wasn’t just an ordinary ceremony, it was the dance of the spirits that is held every decade.

The decorations of black and green face paint swirling across jessy’s cheeks was a warrior’s symbol, that has been passed down from her ancestors amongst the lions clan.

Her dad had worn that symbol before to perform the dance of spirits and it was now her turn to step into limelight to represent the lions clan in a fierce competition against other clans, each represented by their dancers.

She took the center stage, looking focused and free from distractions. The elders sat in a semi circle, their gaze piercing like an arrow and other clan dancers watching with anticipation as they size her.

At the first beat of the drum, Jessy moved with precision, her feet gliding over the earth, her hands swaying in the air and her body moving like someone been possessed by the spirits.

Suspended between the living and the dead, she rolled on the floor. The silence of the crowd was drowned with noise of the spirits. she could hear her late daddy’s voice in her subconscious telling her: “dance not just with your body but with your soul”.

And she did that perfectly well.

At the final struck of the drum, she froze, laying there on the floor with an outstretched arm and her heart racing.

There was a deafening silence, when a single leaf drifted from the sacred tree.

The elders exchange knowing glances at each other.

A distant roar echoed, shaking the air with primal power.