THE hauntingly beautiful whirring of dinaka broke the early morning silence of Mamone, a slumberous village dotted with hillocks formed of clusters of boulders that protrude from the landscape like giant anthills.
In the crowded lapa of the Bapedi Marota Mamone royal homestead located at the base of one of these spectacular rocky hills, an elderly woman in a bright yellow dress pounded on a cowhide drum.
Dudum dum dudum dum dum! Dudum dum dudum dum dum!
Around her forming a vibrating and electrified semi-circle, men stomped the ground in sync to the drum, blowing furiously on their flute like pipes.
Wheeeee wheeee! Wheeeeee wheeeeee! Wheeeeee wheeeee wheeeee!
Another man, his head covered in a hat fashioned from the soft, beautiful skin of a jackal moved around like a spirit medium, blowing on a rusted brass trumpet.
Vuuuuu! Vuuuuuuuu! Vuuuuuu!
A Bapedi elder in full song during the commemoration ceremony…
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Molepo Traditional Dance Cooperative Limited 