The Fire Festival (12/27)

There is a legend in the Northern Region of Ghana about a Chief who lived long ago. This Chief one day came home to find that his son was missing. As soon as the people from the village heard the news they all became very worried about the child. The entire village decided they would go look for the boy and return him to the Chief.


By the time they had organized it was already night-time. So every person in the village made a torch, lit it, and went off into the night to find the Chief's lost son. They searched all night long and finally after some time they found him sleeping, safely, under a large tree.


They celebrated when they found him unharmed. Everyone began to sing and dance under the large tree. They then returned to the Chief's Palace to share the great news. The Chief was extremely happy to have his son again.


From them on, every year, the people of the Northern Region celebrate the search and successful finding of the Chief's lost son. They celebrate at night and all light torches to simulate the first search.


They call it the Fire Festival.

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Jacob (not the one from WaleWale, a different one), Rebecca, and Georgette came to my village to join me for the Fire Festival. Some of my students were happy to be our tour guides for the festivities. Fidaus and Ibrahim said they would guide us through the event, and so we decided to meet them at Bubu's recharge stand just after sunset. When we arrived we found they had made some presents for us.

Mustapha, Ibrahim, Me and Fidaus

(Ibrahim and Fidaus made torches for all of us)

Raheem always wanting to get his hands on things

(Raheem holding my torch)

We greeted Bubu, his wife Felicia, the Imam from the Mosque (Mustapha), and we saw his 2 boys Raheem and Mustapha. Since we had some time to kill, Jake and I ran back to my house to pick up the mini-tripod that I have for my camera. On our way back to the stand we saw some torches being swung around. When we returned Fidaus explained that the children begin with the fire first. Since they are not allowed to be part of the general festival, the children light their smaller torches and play in the streets. They were all chasing each other, laughing, and spinning their torches in circles. They would whiz them above their heads, and then swoop them down against the floor, making the embers fly.

We watched the children play for a while and a man approached on his moto-bike. He told us that the festival was about to begin at Nayili (NAH-yee-lee, the chief's palace). We quickly picked up our torches, said goodbye to the people we were sitting with, and headed to Nayili. When we arrived we found a crowd of hundreds of people, all holding dry torches with no fire on them. We greeted the elders, the sub-chiefs, and the drummers, as well as many of my students who had come out to see the festivities.

Now it was just time to wait for the warriors to arrive with the fire. Diare, like most traditional Ghanaian towns has the normal chieftancy hierarchy, as well as warriors which protect the village from any intruders. At this point it's more of a symbolic title, but one that is held with high regard. The warriors who lead the hunting and search parties would be the ones to start the ritual celebrating the search long ago.

Sitting with the Sub-Chiefs and other opinion leaders outside Nayili

The warriors had arrived.

There was an excitement in the air, everyone was cheering and waving their bound branches in anticipation. The crowd all huddled into a center ring and shoved to be part of the initial life of fire. From this initial spark would come the fire for the entire festival. Some would light their torches from this center ring, and then spread it out to everyone else.

The warriors lighting the first flame.

Suddenly the night lit up. There were blazing torches everywhere. Drummers played their songs, the villagers all sang and chanted in rhythm, and we all marched down the road in search of the lost boy.

Some gun fire went off here and there as the warriors and the villagers shot their muskets. A loud shot went off to my left and I jumped. When I looked there was a procession of warriors and the warrior leader ahead of them. An old man with heavy creases in his face who stared straight forward as he walked. He had on an old smock and a chief's hat, and he leaned on his wooden walking stick as he headed forward.

Behind the initial parade heading down the road.

The initial crowd of people marched forward down the road. There was a trail left behind as small dry shrubs were lit on fire as we passed. No brush fires started but small patches here and there burned, as if they were landing strip lights on a runway indicating the right path.

After marching some time, Fidaus suggested we take a short cut and get ahead of the precession so we could see them approach, and march in the front.

The March Approaches...

Celebration

The Fire Festival

The march passed us again as I took pictures, and again we took another shortcut to head them off. This time we finished the leg of the march and waited near an enormous tree. The fire-made light approached slowly but deliberately, drumming and chanting as it did. When it got to the tree the mass of people swarmed it and threw their torches into the branches and at the base. We tossed ours in as well and stepped back to watch the proceedings.

The children were afraid that if we got too close some of the JuJu men might get us. Juju is what they call Voodoo magic here. During these traditional festivals people perform rituals to invoke spirits which give them supernatural strengths. These juju men bring their cutlasses (machetes) and apparently hit each other with them, but their magic prevents their skin from being cut.

My students were afraid that I might be mistaken for a person possessing Juju powers, and so we stayed a safe distance back as shirtless men marched around with their cutlasses and metallic armbands proclaiming their strength and invulnerability.

After some dancing and chanting under the tree the village turned to head back to Nayili. The boy had been found and it was time to share the good news with the chief. On our way back we ran into another huge group of people headed to the tree. The different neighborhood-groups in Diare set out to search separately, and so they arrive at the tree and at Nayili at different times.

When we returned to the Chief's Palace everyone was celebrating and carrying leaf covered branches. They all swarmed one of the houses and some of the local healers were sprinkling medicine water on the crowd. The medicine water has healing abilities, and so if you approach with a branch from the festival and the medicine water hits it, the leaves will absorb the healing powers and become medicinal aids themselves. Then you can use the leaves in food or in a bath to cure you of any ailment.

Crowding forward for the blessing

After watching several hundred people crowd forward to receive some of this holy water, I decided I wanted to be blessed as well. Fidaus took me to the side of the crowd and I jumped up and ripped a branch off of a tree for myself.

He shoved forward ahead of the people, pulling me along. He climbed onto the platform where the medicine men were and they shouted at him to get off. He quickly informed them in Dagbani that I was there, the only words I understood were Siliminga (white man). He almost jumped in excitement at the news, and told the other man, who reacted in the same fashion.

Up until this point they had been using a calabash filled with water, scooping their hands in and sprinkling it over the crowd. One time I saw them toss a whole calabash of water in the air in a large arc to try to sprinkle some of the people in the back as well.

When they heard that I was waiting on the side of the crowd they went inside to get more water. Their backs were turned to me as they filled it so I was not sure what they were doing, or if they were going to bless me at all.

When they turned again I saw they had the calabash with them. What I saw was the inside of a calabash rushing towards me as the man unloaded an entire bowl's worth on my face and chest.

I guess he really wanted to bless me right.

My face was soaked and so was my smock. Me and Fidaus laughed and cheered as we returned to our small group of Silimingas.

I came back, face and hair dripping, and chest soaked with medicine water. I showed off my healing leaves and shared my story about how blessed I was.

We headed back to town, thanked our students for the amazing night, and headed back to my place for some needed sleep.

All in all it was an amazing festival. It's great to live in Ghana.

My Room is Now Blessed.