Egun Gun, Le Masquerade Poem by Birgitta Abimbola Heikka

Egun Gun, Le Masquerade



With images of him are my childhood memories filled
The man who scared and delighted every child on the
streets of Lagos.
From head to toe in heavy brocade dressed, stomping his feet
Making the bangles on his ankles rattle.

A comical and scary figure he was
The Masquerade who made us weep with laughter.
Round and round the street, he dances
Then towards us charges
Squealing with awe and rapture, we take to our heels and hide
like frightened, scattered little hens

To taunt him mercilessly was our greatest delight
As he turns and struts away
We creep from our hiding places, singing:
'Egun gun Calaba, iyo yo, iyo yo.'
He pauses in his steps then turns around and after us chases
We take to our heels once more

And as you see, the eternal game resumes
Locked in a loop of hide, seek and scare
'Egun gun Calaba, iyo yo, iyo yo.'


I have another version of this poem (under a different title) on another website. This playful piece was as a result of editing done by my friend, Cleveland Gibson.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: culture
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