They entered into the circle in the same way as the Ndhokodo group—in groups of two. But this time there was a man on the drums, two women with shakers made out of old oil cans, seven women with clappers made of flat pieces of wood. The women clappers took turns entering the circle to dance—moving their hips in sharp, quick, rhythmic movements. And the people clapped their hands, and laughed with joy, at the dancers’ gestures, as the beauty of their movements filled the space under the moonlit night, and their feet light and heavy on the sandy dirt of this tropical floor—although the words of their songs spoke of their suffering.
- Lorraine Johnson
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