a mistake

The other day Avo and I along with Avo’s closest friend, Alima, went to an event that was described as a  ‘concert of hilltribes music’. The large hall was packed mostly with people from the various minorities many of whom had come down from their villages just for the occasion. Things started one hour late, which gave Alima time to take her pills. Along with a careful diet they have kept her Aids at bay longer than has been the case with most of her contemporaries. The event was being televised and after the customary interminable (and inaudible) speeches, there was a series of performances by groups of gracefully nubile young ladies in fancy costumes accompanied by rather mournful vocalists who doggedly strummed their guitars. After three or more of these events Avo and I exchanged glances. ‘This is a load of crap’ is the gist of what she said. We were not the only ones to leave but most of the audience, for whatever reason, seemed to have decided to stick it out. The prettiness of it is far removed from life in the hills, whether it is music or preparing lunch.

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