First Historic Abibitumi Conference 2023: A Kambon Recount

The sunrise was a glowing ornament blinding us in the sky as I rose off my cotton-clogged sheets. That day was a day I both dreaded and anticipated at the same time. As I walked out the beautifully carved doors of my bedroom and made my way down the stone tiled halls, the glass skylight singing sunlight above me, I wondered how the day would go. It was finally July 7th, conference day. I was not only expected to cater for hundreds of people today, I was also to perform in a play. 

Clad in a flowing dress of violent violet and lavender patterns intertwining with each other, mixed feelings pounded through my heart like a song. I carried my feet like wind across a summer sea to where everyone was gathered, drums beating vibrations and bringing smiles to the children. Then it was time to perform. As adults happily sipped sugar-dropped coconut water, I made my way to the middle of the drum circle where dust had risen from the dancers who’d performed before. I spoke out in decibels that rang over the crimson walls of the compound and recited my lines, encouraging smiles and family members pointing their cameras at me. Once, I slipped on a sentence and in my embarrassment, the world seemed to stand still. It was as if the cool summer sea had become an icy tsunami and risen over the lands to freeze me in my grief. I completed the play however, I never quite heard what else I said. The rest of the day floated by like a fever dream.

Nightfell as fast as shooting stars fall through the sky, it was the long-anticipated concert night. Dew drops hung on the grassy field it was to be held at, chairs engraved with coarse bumps were placed in rows across the dirt in front the stage that had taken almost three months to build. We gathered outside, but then, clouds began to cover the twinkling dark like a bed-sheet over a sleeping child at night, and we were unprotected from the night skylights. Lightning rained down in the rows of white folding chairs and we scurried and hurried to get inside. Amongst the crowds was whispers of disappointment, the dance floor quiet, the DJ silent. Ideas then rose up through the raindrop clouded windows and the singers began bringing the crowd to life. Under tangerine spotlights, the concert rang on through the late hours and our favorite songs were performed through the dances, every note weaving through the happiness of the crowd. What could have been a disaster was a night to celebrate for, reveled in for years to come. A day I once dreaded at sunrise became lit up in joy and laughter by sunset.