N'DEP - Yoff, Senegal

Yoff, Dakar, Senegal

The N'DEP Ritual of Yoff, Dakar, Senegal

There are some people who believe in two worlds: the :”human world” and the “spirit world”. The human world is the world that we live every day. It's tangible, factual and real. Things in the human world are consistent, practical and often times provable. In this world which we all know and embrace, most things are simple and clear - just as night and day. But, many Westerners have not heard of the spirit world and most of those who have are not able to conceptualize what it actually means therefore it is easily written off and disregarded. The spirit world is and entire other world inside of our own. Here, things are less tangible; ghost, spirits witchcraft, fetishes and more. For most, the idea of ​​a spirit world is quite preposterous and even comical. But to their disbelieve, the spirit world is much more than beliefs and superstitions - it's tradition, a lifestyle and a way to stay connected to their ancestors. For those who believe, there's lot of respect and fear of this world. I am convinced that those who don’t believe because continue to do so because they chose not to understand.

In the village of Yoff, in Dakar, Senegal, I experienced the spirit world with my own eyes for the first time. Previous to this experience, I had had several encounters with friends and colleagues telling “stories” of the spirit world, but to me, there were just that - stories.

My first night in Yoff, I was invited to an N'DEP by Djibi Mbaye, my new friend who was a traditional Griot drummer. Griots are found throughout West Africa and are essentially a member of a class or society who are poets, musicians and/or storytellers and their purpose is to maintain the tradition and oral history. Often times, most so historically, they are the lower and uneducated class and it’s a profession passed from father to son. Djibi was to pick me up at 22:00 - I didn't know what to wear, I didn’t know where we were going, I didn’t what to expect. I clung to the one sentence of advice I received was from and friend who had studied abroad a in the same area a few months before I arrive: "Be ready for some crazy shit." With empty hands, Djibi and I left my compound. 

That night was the first night of the ritual of the N'DEP and it was to continue for the rest of the week (5 days total), twice a day (once at noon and once late in the evening). Our pace was slow but I was still sweating, it was hot season and unless you engulfed yourself with air-conditioning, there was no escaping the sweltering heat. As we wove through the narrow alleyways I could feel the hot sand between my toes. Yoff was so close to the Atlantic Ocean, it was nearly covered in sand. Suddenly, I could hear drums in the distance. We followed suite. Soon we arrived to a circle type gathering of about 30 people. Djibi took his place among the drummers and motioned for me to sit on the bench with the other drummers. I was feeling insecure, clueless and frankly a bit frightened but nobody seemed to pay attention to me. All of the drummers were Griot and played together in some sort of "band" where they are hired for various ceremonies such as an N'DEP or a SABAR. The size of those watching began to get bigger and drumbeats became stronger. Women wearing radiant colors and patters started dancing while they would give a kick and cause sand to go everywhere. The atmosphere was tense and I could tell the ritual was ready to begin.

Seven women with the same fabric but different styles of clothes entered the corner from the crowd. I didn't know where they came from but a man was following them. The women chanted in the microphone and danced around the circle. At this point, my French was terrible and Djibi didn't speak English so we weren’t able to really communicate. He leaned over to me and explained that all of the women in the fabric had at one point been cured by an N'DEP, or at least that’s what I got out of our broken French. Suddenly there was a cry from the back and two young women, both looking to be about 20 years of age, appear in the corner wearing darker pattered dresses and cowrie shelled headbands. 

"Who's that?" I ask Djibi motioning towards the two young girls. Before jumping into the next song he muttered, "Elles sont malade dans le tete, elles ont besoin l’N'DEP” meaning: Those girls are sick in the head, they need the N'DEP. And there it began.

The N'DEP is a ritual of drums, dancing and singing and is used for what the Western world might call a mental patient. The purpose of the ritual is to extract the “wrab” from the person who is sick. A wrab is a lost ancestral spirit who sometimes possesses a person, often a young woman. The wrab attacks the person with a physical or mental illness of any kind. Occasionally, there is even a sacrifice, for example, a chicken, in addition to the N'DEP. The N'DEP is headed by a female religious specialist sometimes know as a witch doctor. This is preformed twice a day and between 3 -7 days to ensure full recovery and full extraction of the spirit. This was all information I learned prior to my experience but I thought I should share before continuing with my written account of what I saw. Djibi’s friend explained to me that wrabs are more dangerous during the day, especially if you are young woman. The wrab can seep into your hair and you will become possessed just like that. Since the objective of the N'DEP to remove the evil spirit, sometimes the spirits are expelled and look for another host to posses right then and there. As she explained these details, she wrapped a bracelet of cowrie shells around my hand. “These” she explained, “will protect you from spirits and witchcraft.” Griot drummers are hired for these ceremonies because the beats which they play remove the wrap. The witch doctor which prescribes the ceremony often times will do a protective blessing for the drumming group to ward off any bad spirits. These were all things I wish I had known before hand but were useful for my research regardless.

The drumming became more intense and so did the dancing. The djembe drums shook the sand, I could feel the vibrations internally. One of the women seemed to fall into some sort of trance and crashed into the sand. She twisted and rolled across the sand as if she was having a seizure. She paid no attention to her surroundings. The drumbeat got louder then faster still. The possessed woman pulled at her hair - she was clearly distraught. Meanwhile, another woman fell into a trance as she leaped forward in the sand and began trying to swim. The music was so loud I couldn’t even hear myself think. I could feel sweat dripping down my body. The drummer to my left hit his drum with such force that his sweat splashed onto me nearly every note.  

Another cry burst out - but this time, it came from the crowd. While I was searching for where it came from, the woman fell into a trance. All of the women were doing something different at this point. One was rolling in the sand, another jumping around the circle waving her arms and another was being held by a woman to ensure her safety. After a few minutes, the drums became slow and the women grew tired. The beat stops and everyone took a few moments to recuperate. A cup of water was passed to everyone in the drumming group to refresh themselves; they looked exhausted.

At this point, I noticed something very strange and symbolic. Every drummer dipped their drumstick (which was essentially a stick from a local hard wooded tree) into the water cup before they drank it. Perhaps it is for protection against the spirit; I was never able to figure that out due to my poor French. Someone called into the microphone and the drums began to play again. Quickly, another woman fell into a trance: that was the 4th woman to 'lose it'. I thought it was odd that neither of the two young ladies whom the N'DEP were for had fallen into a trance. I looked at my watch and saw that it was about 01:00. A woman began passing around two bottles of coke to all of the women helping to preform the N'DEP. Suddenly they began fighting for it. The older woman won and began pouring the soda all over her body and throughout her hair.

One of the women in a mad manner stumbled up to a drummer, grabbed his drum like the horns of a bull and began violently shaking herself up and down in a ‘head banging’ sort of manner. The woman who had won the Coke battle was rolling and twisting about in the sand. Each and every inch of her body was covered in specs of sand.  As if the heat was too much and her shirt too constricting, she removed it from her body and threw it across the sand covered platform. The others came to her rescue by tying a piece of fabric around her waist as they slowly pulled her to the side. I was finally able to take my eyes off of the N'DEP and turned to look at the crowds reaction to all of this. It seemed as though no one was surprised by any of the behavior. I suppose that sort of ceremony was quite common in Yoff. I was still oblivious to what everything meant and due the language barrier between Djibi and I – I had no other choice but to wait patiently and soak in every single movement and gesture which I deemed significant or puzzling.

A small, old woman stood up from the crowd and began dancing as she was cheered on by laughter. The two young women finally made their appearance running wild around the circle with a rope of cowrie shells above their heads. In an uncontrolled manner, they were jumping and twisting about as they ran around the open circle. Their wraps had finally seemed to be coming out; they were now on the ground rolling about. The older women helped keep them sage and under control with the same fabric wrap around the waist.

Due to my proximity to the drummers, I internally noticed as their beats began to subside. The vibrations of the drums on my skin diminished and the intensity of the atmosphere dropped. It seems to be the end of the ritual. The same woman who had brought them into the circle at the beginning carried out the young girls. It was as if they had vanished. Djibi signaled for me and we like that, we were gone.

My mind was racing as we meandered the narrow paths of sand in Yoff. Due to the extreme heat during the dry season, many people were still awake. We passed a man sleeping on a mat outside his home. Before dropping me off, Djibi and I made plans for later that day. There was another session of the N'DEP to take place around noon. Just as my head hit the pillow, I was out.

I awoke to the sound of my fan, legs tangled in my sheets, and ears ringing from the intensity of the drums just hours earlier. Soon noon was upon me and my friend Abdul Aziz accompanied me to the N'DEP. Again, we could hear the drumbeat getting louder and louder. My heart began to beat faster and faster as we approached. I turned to Aziz and said, “Come with me today.” He replied saying, "I don’t believe in those things. Plus, they are only for women and children. I cannot go.” He told me the men of the neighborhood would strongly disapprove if he went: it would be a risk of their masculinity and their reputation they were seen there. According to him, things of this are for women because they are the guardians of traditional religion. As I turned to part ways, he stopped me to advise me, "Antonia, you have to wear your hair up. Do not allow anyone to touch your hair and do not talk to people who are not friends with Djibi. This slightly confused me and I wrote it off to paranoia. In hindsight after my research, I realize he was trying to protect me from the wrab.

I followed the drumming and arrived at the same location where we were the previous night. I snuck in through the back as the N'DEP was already underway and greeted Djibi who was out front playing the talking drum. I took my seat next to drummers. It was mid day and the sun was at its highest. Fortunately for us, the tarp over our heads deflected the worst of the brutal midday heat. A woman was circling around selling frozen hibiscus juice; it failed to cool me off.

 

The women who were the most hysterical yesterday sat on the side watching with a surprising calm demeanor. This change really had me puzzled. I had so many unanswered questions about this ceremony and I began to challenge my own preconceived notions and understanding of the spirit of the world. After about an hour of the ritual, similar to the night before, I looked for the nearest exit; I needed to collect my thoughts. At first, I thought this entire experience was hysterical. But in a very short period of time my ignorant laughter had been turned into fear and subsequently reconstructed into curiosity and I became intrigued. Then it dawned on me, I had witnessed the most extraordinary and idiosyncratic occasions of my life and its events have remain vivid in my mind ever since.

Keeping an open mind is at the heart of acceptance, tolerance and infinite knowledge. During this transformative period of my life, I was able to generate thoughtful questions which I hoped would give me clarity on what I had seen so I could find closure and understanding. To my dismay, often times my questions were unable to be really elucidated. The unexplainable is sometimes frightening but I encourage everyone to embrace it. It would be unjustifiable to totally write off what I had seen as if it were some sort of theater piece or a make believe fairytale. However, it is also foolish in the eyes of many Westerners to believe that ancestral spirit can possess a person and that drum beats will cure them. For those who have lived only to the human world, I would urge you to open yourself up to an alternative world - the spirit world. Embrace mystery, discover alternative thoughts, listen to the stories of others and always keep and open mind and an open heart.

Read more about my travels in Senegal.