H.E. Nana Afia Serwaa Brakatuo I |
The school grounds were alive with vibrant energy. Three colorful sound systems and several tents were scattered across the playground, leading up to the rectangular school hall. While some of the artifacts on display were interesting, I found the presentation lacking. The symbols and language were unfamiliar to me, making me realize the need for more support and better transmission of cultural knowledge at events like this. It would have been more effective if the displays had been complemented by information on traditional cuisines, condiments, spices, and herbs.
Left-Tevin Livingston MC |
As I wandered around, I was drawn to the back of the school by the sound of drums. A small setup of folding tables and large cooking pots sat on truck rims and river stones. The menu included soup, rice and peas, fried chicken, fish, and Jerk (pan-roasted) chicken. Nearby, a small group was engaged in a religious ceremony. The drumming, chanting, and dancing were mesmerizing. However, I was soon approached by a woman who firmly instructed me to return to the front of the building, explaining that the Kumina ritual being performed was private. Despite my attempts to explain that I had been invited by one of the organizers, she warned me that the man chanting with the cutlass could lash out if I didn’t leave. Heeding her warning, I reluctantly returned to the front.
The sound system remained silent while the Kumina ritual was in progress. Though the event was scheduled to start at 10:00 AM, I arrived after 12:00 PM to find the ritual and cooking as the only activities happening. The front area was relatively quiet, with a few visitors from other Maroon communities, some tourists, and locals seeking shelter from the sun under the tents. With no directed activities at the front, some children and young people began making up games on their own.
Unable to resist, I ventured back to the rear of the school, this time feigning a need to use the toilet to get closer to the Kumina ritual. I planted myself close enough to witness the dance and listen to the music and chanting. Suddenly, a woman in a trance, wielding the cutlass that the lead singer had been using, rushed towards me. She was quickly restrained by her fellow participants, and I immediately left the scene. Shortly after, two men, one carrying a Dutch pot of burning coals on his head and another with a banana leaf above his head, along with the woman, were seen running from the back of the school, drawing attention as they boarded a car and sped off. This signaled the end of the ritual, and soon after, the King Tafari Sound System began playing.
Display of food and other indiginous artifacts. |
Around 2:00 PM, the main event commenced with a procession, led by HRH Prince Sizzla Kalonji and the Scott’s Hall Indigenous Maroon drummers and dancers. De Ante Livingston (AKA Didilivity) chaired the program under the theme “Nothing About Us Is Without Us. We Must Have a Say in Our Destiny.” As the crowd grew, several speakers addressed the audience. The official opening included Chief of Taino Kasike Kalaan Pairman, who blew the Abeng to the four corners of the earth while chanting a prayer to the ancestors, all living things, and the elements. This was followed by a prayer from Pastor Julian Prehay and the pouring of libation by Gamma G and Kasike Kalaan Pairman—a captivating ritual even though it was conducted in a mix of patois and African languages.
The event transitioned into a series of “Greetings,” where various leaders from the Maroon communities, including Charles Town and Moore Town, addressed the audience. Topics such as land encroachment, Maroon sovereignty and autonomy, and self-governance were passionately discussed. Until this event, I hadn’t fully grasped the significance of these issues for the Maroon and Taino communities. Despite the difficulty in hearing some of the speakers, it was clear that this gathering was an important platform for discussing the political and economic realities facing the Maroons.
The highlight of my visit was dancing with a group of drummers and dancers, including an old friend and master drummer, Mustafah Reds, whom I hadn’t seen in years. We danced together, shared libations, and exchanged contact information. It was a joy to reconnect and dance to his drumming once again. Though I had a cup of soup, which was delicious, I didn’t try the rest of the food, tempting as it was.
King Tafari Sound System |
The act of possession is a significant feature of this festival. Whether the participants were truly possessed or merely putting on a show is unclear, but what stood out to me was the frequent use of the word “Bomboclaat” during the trances. I found this intriguing.
For me, the authentic Kumina shuffle was somewhat missing, as most of the dancers wore shoes. Traditionally, I’ve known this dance to be performed barefoot. Nevertheless, the percussive energy and essential elements of Kumina were present, making it a powerful experience.
After
absorbing the cultural atmosphere and reflections, I left before the event
concluded, knowing I had a long journey home. Despite the challenges and the
unexpected moments, I felt the effort to attend was well worth it. The Scott’s
Hall Maroons provided an educational and memorable experience. Special thanks to
Jacqueline Phillips for the invitation; Mrs. Jackson for making it possible and Mr. Reginald Walker for insightful information on the community's history and traditions—it was both enlightening and fun.
Thanks for such detailed account of the Festival. Commendation to the organizers.
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