Obidos Dance. 

The tree was bare, black against the orange sky. It is dusk in Obido of the Sahel savannah. A little village of about six hundred adults and children. Ufot trudges to the stem of the tree and leaning against it as he takes out his tobacco snuff box. 

 "Mmmmm mmmmm!"

Thanks to providence, the rain is almost here. No more dusty eyelids, cracked lips and heels or red eyes caused by too many dust particles.  

 Ufot scoops tobacco from the little container that has seen better days. Before the twinkle of an eye, he inhales it.

 "Errrrtiiiim! Errrrtiiim!"

 “I wonder what Rabiu sells to us these days.” Ufot says to himself.

Just a scoop of tobacco, imagine where the gauge is” he mutters to himself.

 He slides down from the stem of the tree as he observes a ruse in the vegetation beside him.

 “It might be a squirrel,” he muses to himself.

 This Acacia tree is the sacred tree of the Obidos and guarded by their forebears believed to be represented by the squirrels. Only strangers admire them; Obidos believe they are a bad omen if seen in the evening such as this.

 A flurry of activities catches his attention likewise. A group of six teenagers run off the ticket wherein the squirrels are playing hide and seek.

The squirrels are out again this evening!

“Let’s run after them” one says

I do not find them attractive more so, I hate the natural smell that oozes from their skin. It makes me nauseous. 

 “Come over here let me tell you a story!” He beckons on them.

 Excited, they all hurry to his sitting position and sit in a semi-circular pattern similar to that of the United Nations.  

 “Long time ago! We did not have any vegetation in Obido.” He starts. 

 “Ah aha!” They all exclaim 

 A man planted all these trees and shrubs you see around here. We try hard to maintain them. So, every morning, we come here to chase away animals that pose a threat to the survival of the tree. 

 One afternoon, Eliab the carpenter discovered termites around the tree. A full squad of termites wanted to infest the tree as they were having nuptial flight.

 “Hmmmmm! Hei!”

They all echo. 

 “Hold on!” He gestures with his two palms raised high in their faces.

The boys look on amazed that this tree the Obidos usually come out to for town hall meetings, tales by moonlight, where Zebu Cattles are herded on very hot days and announcement of a new season holds such a great story.

“The villagers took turns to destroy the termites; for they had commenced erection of an anthill beside the tree. Some with sticks, others with turpentine spray. We all fought for the restoration of the tree hence it continued existence today.”  Ufot continues to elaborate on the tree.

 Like an injunction from a prophet, the youths rose up and began to chant their play song as they circled round the tree. Ufot joins them as they continue to sing and dance. Displaying different stunts and dance styles. 

Not long after, they commence touching the bark of the tree at the turn of a round at the rear section of the tree.

 Obidos began to gather in little groups of threes and fours. Chanting the song

“We will keep on making you grow and stay in health

Under the rain and in the sun

Oh! How we like to dance round your stem!

We like it! We like it!

Your branches give use the shade after a long day

We like to take snuff here

The nice view of the village is best seen

If on the highest barks of yours

Cram-cram will not hinder your growth

 We will not let you die!”

“Wait for me!

 Wait for me!”

The sound of villagers scurrying towards the tree rents the air.

Women in their local attire.

Each balances a leaf of the tree on their head dancing and clapping into the thin air with such gusto like never seen before. Not even that of the day it rained after two years.

 Ufot watches dazed at the crowd he has attracted only by mere telling of a story to a group of eager youths.

 He lifts the lid of the tobacco case and runs out of the dancing circle of men, women, youths and children.

 “Phiiim! Phiiim! Phiim!” He inhales more of the substance.

 Ufot! Ufot! Do not tow this same line your father took to his early grave.

 “What do you mean by Mama Nasiru? Do you insinuate you are better than me because you do not snuff?”

 “C’mon, that is not what I mean. We all take snuff one time or the other.”

Together, with hands held together, they walk towards the stem of the acacia tree. Runs their hands all over it. Chanting the song as the villagers continue to run and dance in circles; intertwining at intervals.

 Just when it seems all is about to die down, the squirrels the boys were chasing earlier run out of the cram cram as the Zebu cattle are herded towards the left-hand side of the Acacia tree.

 The stampede children made seemed to distraught the dancing and happiness.

 “C’mon, it is the Zebu cattle” mama Nasiru shouts.

 “Let us continue our dancing. It is very exciting and good for strong bones!

 Keep on singing, keep on dancing, keep shouting!”

 Chants of “We will not allow you to die” rends the sound of the Zebu cattle hooves as the saunter to the clearing Rufus the herder made for them.

After settling them down, he runs to Ufot demanding an explanation for the sudden jubilation at his usual spot for almost eighteen years

“What is happening Ufot?”

“Did we win a lottery?”

 “Nothing like that my man, I only told the youths the significance of the Acacia tree and they started singing and dancing around it. Within a while the villagers gathered and look what we have now.” He points towards the crowd. They have not shown signs of tiredness at all.

 On and on they sang and danced till the orange sky dimmed to welcome dark clouds.

 The chant thins out as Ufot walks away from the crowd back to his make-shift hut.