Days of the Yams

Dear Diary,
Its mid-August the time of year to celebrate the harvesting of the Yams. I am Yaya and I
am from southern Nigeria. I am the oldest of three. See, there are my little arakunrin (brother)
Kojo and my younger arabinrin (sister) Mina along, with my Mama and Baba. My Baba is a
farmer here in Nigeria he owns a farm that harvest many crops and vegetables such as yams.
Yams are a very important and valuable vegetable grown here in Nigeria. My mother is a
housewife she stays home to cook, clean, and weave traditional clothing and cloths and cares for
my younger siblings .We live in a small village here in southern Nigeria. The village I come
from is all about family, tradition, religion, elders, children and well-being of the community.
I am so excited for this season because weve harvested more yams than any of the years
prior to this coming year and there so much to look forward such as the Yam festival. Now, that I
am older , I am able to experience and understand more of the content , traditions , rituals and
celebrations that will take place in the festival .The Yam festival is one of the biggest
celebrations in Nigeria, it last for about two days.
Mama yells for me to come down stairs because we have a big day ahead of us. We have
a lot preparation and set up that has to be done before the festival begins. Mama was in the
kitchen making breakfast while she was preparing breakfast. I got myself together in preparation
for today. I walk into the bathroom; I brush my teeth and wash my face. I was so excited for the
day. My excitement comes to a halt when Kojo runs into the bathroom and hits me on the arm
and runs away. Unbothered by his actions I shake it off and go on about my routine. I quickly get
dressed and head into the kitchen for breakfast. Ekaro, wajeun (good morning, come eat), says
mama as I sit at the table waiting for my breakfast. Baba was out in the field looking at the yams

seeing how ripe they were. After he checks the Yams he has to prepare to take some over to the
Chiefs place. Now, the Chief is the one who runs/controls our small village. It can be different
depending on the area of Nigeria in which you come from. Nonetheless, our Chief is kind and he
does plenty for our village. Hes done so by allowing girls like me to further my education and
he even comes to visit and speak to the students at my ile-iwe (school).
In preparation for the New Yam Festival mama cleaned the house and all of our house
utensils therefore we would be able to eat during the celebration. As Mama finished up cleaning,
Baba gave me permission to go out to the market to get a chicken for the ceremony that will take
place during the festival. While I was at the market, I spot a few young men dancing. That is
quite common around this time of year for the yam festival. They had one boy on the drums
while the others would dance to the beat of the drums. The movements were fast. The foundation
of the movements came from the hips/waist. They would move their hands in a circular motion
and their heads would nod with the beat of the drum. Not realizing the time, I hurry along so I
could get back home before the Yam festival began. The market was crowded with all the last
minute shopping for the Yam festival.
When I return home, mama has shaved Kojo's head into a beautiful pattern. Baba begins
to put out our Yams in front of our ile (home). Villagers put yams outside their home to see who
has harvested the most yams for the year. While, Baba does that I go to put on my traditional
pattern skirt with my traditional pattern top. It has a hint of blue, green, and white colors. Along
with the combination of colors are beautiful designs of flowers and diverse line patterns. My
mama puts different designs across my arms and face with paint. Mama and Mina wear a
traditional African dresses, while Baba and Kojo wear a long ipari (wrap).

Everyone in the village gather together in a general land area where they have the
sacrificial ceremony and eating of the first yam done by the Chief. We say many prayers and
blessings to the Chief and the people of the village. They save the other chickens for tomorrows
gatherings. Then many of us head back to our ile (homes) to cut our first yams as a family. Mama
then puts the yam in a soup called Fufu which is mashed yams. This is a dedication to the
Ahiajoku, the god of Yams. Baba then leads our family into a small prayer and blessing. The
yams are a way to tell of our future and what is to come. Since, we harvested many good yams
this year we are hoping for a prosperous and fulfilling year. Tired from all of the festivities of the
day I head to bed excited for what tomorrow holds.
I wake up to the aroma of Fufu fulfilling the house. We all dine and eat together until its
time for everyone together for the second day of the festival. The second day is what I longed
for most.
Everyone gathers in the village again and we pray and seek more blessings from the gods.
After the prayer it was time for singing, dancing, music, wrestling, and the celebration of good
things to come.
Mama and few of the women began to form a circle. The men then take their drums and
play beautiful musical rhythms that allow the women to dance. They go around in this circle and
move their hips, arms, feet, and heads all in one motion as one unit. I was hesitant to join at first
but mama grabs me and says, w ij (come dance). I slowly began to drag my feet across the
grass in fear of dancing in front of everybody. Everyone looks at me and encourages me to
dance. I began with a light sway of my hips. Then I move my hands back and forth across my
body close to my waist; all to the rhythm of the drums and voices of my people. I had beaded
anklets attached to my ankles, so as I stomped my feet across the ground the rhythm of the beads

would shake to create this authentic sound. The women all began dance together once again in
the circle. As the men watched they cheered us on through song and instruments. A few of the
young men began to dance along with us. All I could hear was the beautiful songs of Yoruba
language from the Nigerian people. This went on for several hours just laughter, dancing, and
singing in celebration of the Yam festival.
The night began to whine down and suddenly I was exhausted. However, I continued to
stay up and talk with my family and a few of my friends. Most of the adults were drinking and
making jokes by the end of the night. Baba was enjoying himself so much it didnt look like he
was going to make it through the night.
I head back into the house where I could still hear loud laughter of the people who were
still hanging around in the village. I get ready for bed. Once I got into bed I could not stop
thinking about the exciting day I had to day. I was genuinely able to experience my culture and
the many traditions that take place within it. I hope that someday Kojo and Mina will experience
the same feelings and emotions I have had at the Yam festival. It has been a great couple days
and I will treasure it for a lifetime. Until next time
Yours Truly,
Yaya