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New Year's Day

My best friend Solomon and I had plans to celebrate the New Year with a bang. I spent almost the entire day at his house as we were discussing things to do for the night. We talked about going to the strip club, a bar, then the club, before spending the night at two of his female friends’ house. As we were discussing, his mother came in haven overheard our conversation. She began talking about how time and traveling to America has changed everything. “On New Year’s Day, by waking up to the dances of the masquerades, dined and drink as a family and give thanks to God for the NEW AND THE OLD”. Upon her comment, I began to recollect and reflect on what I remember about New Year’s Day in Liberia, and my experience with a masquerade.
“ONCE UPON A TIME. Far away in the forest lived a child who was so ugly that children would run away from him as adults would stare curiously. It was said that the child had no parents. He came to being form the spirits of the land, feeding on only children and drinking only palm oil. He spent many years isolated in the forest to avoid laughter and mockery because of his looks. As time went by, already a man, he decided to get a bit braver by entering the city but things were still the same. Children would still run in fear as adults would stare curiously. So he decided to wear a mask to hide his identity, subsequently stopping the running and staring by town’s people. He would come to the city and dance for any audience to get him some money to feed and clothed. People enjoyed his dancing very much not knowing who he was. Children loved him as they would come to play with him (touching his gourmets so he could run after them). The dancing and the child’s play became quite a familiar scene. He soon became known as The Masquerade, a figure of excitement and festivity, tied down to our tradition of the New Year.
I woke to the smell of the delicious African Style beans and rice. The smell led me directly to the kitchen where I saw my mother preparing our New Year’s Day meal. I was annoyed realizing that I wasn’t the first person awake, but happy because it was New Year’s Day. New Year’s Day has always been one of my favorite times of the year next to Christmas. I wanted to indulge in the joy of waking up everyone. Thinking that six (6) was early enough, I was baffled and astonished to meet mother up before then. Looking at how far she’d gone in the meal preparation, she must have been up for hours. After saying my good morning, I went ahead, waking up everyone in the house. Daddy was the first, the Ephraim, Rufus, Patience, Calvin, Goode, Kpene, and Uncle Mark (who would come over every New Year’s Eve to spend to holiday with us. They all woke with a fierce frown on their faces; exclaiming-“it’s too early”! After taking their morning showers, the women joined mother in the kitchen as the men sat around watching soccer and drinking beer and soft drinks. I took Goode (my younger brother) outside the house where we went to pick up whipping stick for the masquerade.
Around nine (9) in the morning, mother was done with the meal which was placed on the dining table. Shortly after, I began to hear the beating of congos which preceded singing and chanting. Recognizing the approaching sound, I quickly ran outside with my whipping stick. There I saw the tallest masquerade ever! It was about twelve (12) feet tall, attired in a gourmet made from the thatch of the palm. As I came closer, I saw a crowd of about thirty (30) people behind the masquerade. Most of them were children ranging from eight (8) to eighteen (18). In Africa, even a twenty-one (21) years old man is still a child; especially if he is still living with his parents.
I joined the crowd, chasing after the masquerade and whipping it with my stick. Being the only one with a stick, I became the center of its diverse attention. As I approach closer to deliver another hit, it turned toward me and started running after me. It was relentless in its pursuit, chasing me everywhere I went. It must have followed me for about three (3) minutes by every corner and between every house. When it finally cut up to me, I had stubbed my toe on a tree branch that lied in the middle of the road. There, I lied flat on the ground over crusted leaves and snail-shells. My hands, knees, and eye were bleeding from the impact of the fall and the contact of the branch and snail-shells. The masquerade stood over me, then started dancing around me pouring dust from his hands on my injured and tiered body like a chef seasoning a meal. As I lied helplessly, I could only pounder on what it was going to do to me. Then I recall father telling us the story about the masquerade that was birthed by the spirits of the land and fed only on children and palm oil. I was frightened out of my sense that he was going to devour me. I try to get up and run away but it grabbed me and stood me up. It held me high like a as it danced through the crowd. It was looking for my parents who somehow managed to be at the scene despite all the festivities at home. It found them by their screaming and calling out. I was then left before their feet as it continued dancing. While still frightened, I was astonished that I wasn’t devoured or harmed by the masquerade. Immediately, I was taken to hospital where I was sought after, later returning home to join the New Year’s Day dining and festivities.
As I had been quite for quite a while and obviously distant, I became alerted by tapping Solomon tapping the right shoulder. It was time to leave the house.