As history tells us, the African continent is comprised of arbitrarily drawn countries with no regard to ethnicity or culture. In Togo alone, there are 40+ ethnicities. There is the “Pays Kabiye”, which is basically the nation, if you will, of Kabiye people who are spread throughout the country in various large cities and small villages. Kabiye culture varies from place to place and even the dialect of the language is different within each “quartier”, or neighborhood, of my town which is a Kabiye stronghold.
I’ve started taking Kabiye lessons because my French has progressed to a comfortable level (in a West African context) and I felt it is time to start humoring my neighbors by speaking their language. Peace Corps actually gives volunteers money to take language lessons, so I hired a friend and long-time partner of Peace Corps to teach me Kabiye. Kabiye is mostly just a spoken language. However, at some point in the history of missionaries, someone decided to create a Kabiye alphabet in order to write a Kabiye bible. When you attend church in Sotouboua, most people possess a bible in both French and Kabiye. Personally, the work of the missionaries turning Kabiye into a written language and then translating the entire bible seems a bit senseless, as the missionaries didn’t teach most of the people how to read Kabiye. In their defense, Kabiye literacy classes are available at certain churches, but from what I’ve seen most people just read their French bibles.
Every ten years, there is a girl’s initiation ceremony for Kabiye girls to “become” women in the eyes of society. It is called “Condonna”, and luckily 2010 is one of the years that the ceremony takes place. The biggest ceremony is held in the city of Kara, a northern regional capitol inhabited mostly by Kabiye people. Other Kabiye towns hold their own versions of Condonna. In Sotouboua, each “quartier” had their own Condonna ceremony on a different day of the week, combined with the boy’s initiation ceremony, “Evala”, (which occurs yearly) and the “Fete des Ignames”, a party to celebrate the harvest of yams. I witnessed four different days of this ceremony, but I participated the most in the ceremony that took place in my quartier, Tchitchao. This was because the husband, Weyo, of my closest friend in the neighborhood was being initiated. Weyo is 27.
The ceremony starts with eating beignets for breakfast and fufu (pounded yams) for lunch. In the afternoon, the inductees put on their ceremonial garb. For Condonna, girls have to wear only bras and underwear, and for Evala, boys wear only athletic shorts. Then people from the entire quartier gather together, along with the inductees and dance from house to house to the beat of steel cowbell like instruments and drums. The boys must stay bent over the whole time. If you speak to the inductees during the ceremony, you are required to buy them a beer. In the “yard” at each house, there is a keg of tchouk (locally brewed beer) waiting and all of the inductees sit down around the yard, while the townspeople chug tchouk and dance around them. You spend about 15 minutes at each house and then dance/run to the next house. I followed the ceremony to about seven houses. The ceremony was pretty wild, especially when a fight broke out because someone accused a woman of being a sorcerer and poisoning one of the kegs of Tchouk.
In a very convoluted way it reminded me of the party scene at my college when kids would dress up in ridiculous costumes and migrate from house to house surrounding the campus to fill up a solo cup of keg beer, dance a little and move on. In a way, in those four years we were being inducted into the world of adulthood. Although some of us never really entered the real “adult” world….
