Ayandolu Poem by Olufayo Ezekiel

where you see dance you see him,
Where songs explode he will be there.

Ancestral being of all drummers
from Afro coast.
With his bata, gangan
and bembe he entertains.

If you hear,
The papa! tutu! papa! tune
of the bata drum,
Or the den! den! sound of the bembe drum.

If you see the stick
dancing on the face of the fur,
And the palms romancing the dry skin,
To bring out sounds at the Palace,
Making the king to dance-off his wears.

If you see marketers
waving their brooms like flags,
Rolling their waists like tyres
and jumping for joy like a monkey on the tree.

You should know that;
Ayandolu, son of Ayangalu, the great
descendant of Ayan, the king drummer of Ayungba land is drumming.

The voices of his talking drum are from the gods,
The spirits understand, And the
ancestors know the rhythmic flow of his beats.

The words from the dead goats are
divine,
Carved from the string of wisdom,
Only the wise can dance it,
And only the knowers know it.

Like the great Ayangalu, the god of fur,
Ayandolu is a pillar in the terrain of Africa.