The funeral starts off; immediate family members with solemn faces arrive dressed in red cloths. Their cloths a light red colour that looks as though it had been made for those of royal blood. The cloths covered them completely with the exception of the face, neck and hands. The family walk towards the stack of red chairs and observe the entering crowds. The men dress completely in black while the woman wore black cloths with dark brown skirts; it looked as though a sea of ants was rushing to the family of the deceased. The women in dull coloured head dresses walk to the opposite side of the family of the deceased and sat down on the plastic chairs. The area itself is decorated as though a celebration of some sort. Framed photographs of the deceased lay as though markers for the mourning guests who entered. The area was decorated with pink flowers, the kind of pink that adorns a young girl’s face when she blushes. The pillars reaching sky high as though they had reached its pinnacle. Each pillar draped with red and black cloths a mixture of the blackest of nights and the sunniest of days. At the end of each pillar are balloons, the same shades of black and red a signal of some sort, one for the Kra (undying spirit) perhaps.
The Adowa (funeral dance) begins led by the mourners in black. A sea of women and men dancing, making night seem closer than it really is. They dance to the tunes of gongs, to the beating of the ikenga, the white handkerchiefs of the woman flaring. These handkerchiefs made the sea turn into a lighter colour of black and white, an almost hypnotic colour for those watching. The only seated members are those who are related to the deceased. The family members eventually get up after watching the commotion taking place and greet all the mourners individually. Once the greetings has been completed, a young boy begins to dance along with the adults. This boy though young happens to be the best dancer there. The banging on the gongs and the ikenga remain slow and the boy’s body begins to sway as though the music had captured him in a trance.
The boy's body moved in a hypnotic stance with the music, his hips swaying in tune, his whole body gyrating along with the beat. The boy and the music become one. They dance and spin as though they have known each other for years. The music calls out to him and only him. This little boy responds to the call of the music, moving his red cloth that covers him from his waist to his ankles along with the beat. The beat of the ikenga slows and the boy begins to dance a different dance, emerging from what seemed like his utopia. He sways and moves in snake like patterns. It seems like a snake unwinding itself from a victim, the boy’s hand moves like the coils of a snake and his legs just move from side to side as though a magnetic field prevents them from moving otherwise.
The gongs begin to beat faster, each beat more rapid than the other and the boy spins and spins with such speed, it looked like a red dot rotating in the middle of a road. The boy lifts his hands and does the old rolly Polly but in more graceful movements than others before him. He is joined by young girls in black who dance along with him, the music makes them jump, sway as they have never swayed before and like the boy they become one with the music.
The dry voices of both men and women continue to sing, over the loud banging’s off the drums and the sea of dancers that look as though they were about to take flight into the beautiful sky above.
The scene then changes and the women from the family of the deceased stand up and dance along with the little boy, who by this point has lost himself to the music. They dance a special dance that paints the rest of the day red. Once the dance is completed the mourners and the family of the deceased file out of the burial site. They have succeeded in letting the deceased know that they will be able to move on without him and his soul will rest in peace.
