Every generation has its version of tales about the journey of time in general and in certain months of the year in particular. The month of May for the new generation could be the month that heralds the spell of freedom from the dictatorship of the Dergue Regime, when the TPLF-led EPRDF forces defeated the military junta and occupied the capital, remaining in power for the last 23 years and counting.
In earlier years of our recent political history, we recall the May (Ginbot in Amharic) 1989 coup attempt by a few military officers and intellectuals when Mengistu Hailemariam (Col.) was on a visit to East Germany. The 20th May, 1991, was also the day the former head of state flew to Zimbabwe in disguise. May was also the month of the fatal public protest that took place after the 2005 political elections.
Our ancestors had different views. They remember in agony the May plague epidemic, which swept through millions of men and cattle. The toll was massive and millions died following the ensuing famine. Incidentally, eating raw meat was said to have started during this period with the intention of avoiding enemies who might come to share the flesh.
The month of May was since then considered to be a special period of sacrifice, when chickens of a feather or rams of a colour had to be slaughtered to protect people and cattle from the dangers of epidemic disease or ill fate. Parents avoided marriage during the month of May for fear of infectious diseases that may take long to heal.
These omens, however, have changed over time. The “Ginbot Lidetta” rituals have these days turned into perennial barbeque socialisations among members of the neighbourhood.
Funds are raised along with an assortment of cereals and flour, coffee or popcorn and create a festivity that can go by any which name. The clergy would tell you that it is wrong to celebrate the month, as it could amount to worshiping the evil spirit. Others, who prefer celebrating and enjoying the feast, would tell you that May is the month when the birthday anniversary of St Mary is celebrated.
My personal memoir of the month goes back to my boy scouts days, when I had the opportunity of being one of the singers of the now popular “Africa” choir. I clearly remember the incident that took place on the very day of the presentation.
Months of labour by Monsieur Nurssis Nalvandien were ignored and discarded by a sudden political decision to replace the conductor and composer by the late Ethiopian pianist, Tefera Abunewolde, who had never been with us before. But we did not mind.
We were all watching Monsieur Nurssis Nalvadian, who was conducting from behind the curtain. Even if he was out of the line of sight of the audience, the African ministers of education were looking at the back of the Ethiopian, who was only acting as if he knew his subject.
There were a few musicians and actors among us from the then Haileselassie Theatre, the musical ensemble from the boy scouts of Teferi Mekonnen School (TMS) and members of the Glee Club from Nazreth Girl’s school.
That music brings memories whenever I listen to it. It had also been a personal precursor for me to know the stage in and out. First as an actor playing the character of Haji in the “Patriots After Victory” drama by Negash Gebremariam and directed by Tesfaye Gessese. Subsequently, as Aba Boku Leka, the Tribal Head in the famous drama of “Abugida Keyso” by Laureate Tsegaye Gebremedhin.
Fortune tellers or astrologers say that people who are born in the month of May have their stars as “Gemini” – a character that has a passion to communicate with people.
What could there be more true than having the passion to write to readers for over 53 years?
By the way, this article was triggered by a big surprise my children and grand children had for me last Thursday afternoon, May 29, 2014. All of them were waiting, hiding behind the door in complete silence, listening to every step of mine as I was climbing upstairs, coming back from the hospital. When I opened the door, the whole family burst into laughter and exhilaration singing “Happy Birthday to You”.
I did not know what to say except shedding tears for fear of missing them soon when I go back. What more can there be to enjoy looking down at twinkling little eyes, watching their greying grandfather turning 72 and leading him to the candle lights and the dining table laden with rich food and drinks. The aroma of the Ethiopian coffee, the white flakes of pop corn and the happy birthday grand cake.
Yes I walked to the table majestically. I blew out the burning candles. There was a loud applause of felicitations. After all was done and rounded up, I picked up my pen and notebook and tried to write down this memoir and communicate with my readers.
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