Surrounded by drums

A 23-year-old drummer describes the process of drum-making with joy. Kehinde Ayanyinka, a resident of Isolo, Lagos, is a master of his art and even has the surname to prove it.

"‘Ayan' means drummer," he explained. "So ‘Ayanyinka' means ‘I'm surrounded by drummers.'"

This name is apt. His grandfather, the former head of Lagos drummers, Oseni Ayanyinka, left his hometown of Abeokuta to find his fortune in Lagos when he was about 32. He settled among fellow drummers living on the Lagos Island and did well.

The Maestro

Rasaq Ayanyinka, Kehinde's father, is one of Oseni Ayanyinka's three surviving children. Kehinde remembers his father as describing his grandfather's talent as unbelievable.

"My father had very flexible wrists and could make beats up even while playing," Rasaq said in Yoruba. "It was a delight when he entertained. He was a close friend of the then oba of Isolo and became his favourite drummer. He (The oba) gave him the title of Chief Amuludun of Isolo (one who brings joy to the town). That was only one of his titles as he had many before then."

Long before his father's demise, Rasaq Ayanyinka had left the art to pick up carpentry, as he saw no fortune in the business. The question then was: who would continue the family tradition of drumming? This bothered the old man.

Handing over

Desperate to leave his craft in good hands, Oseni Ayanyinka, at that time, turned to his other son. Little did he know that his grandson, Kehinde, would be his heir.

"He didn't know it was going to be me that will play drums. He was training another of his sons. It was later that he knew I had the talent," said Kehinde.

"He was born to play drums," said Rasaq Ayanyinka. "Ayan yan (drumming chose him). He is very skilful, like his grandfather."

Young Kehinde said he learnt to make drums when he was a child. Since he was always in his grandad's company, it was easy to follow in his steps.

"We used to go to occasions together," he said, in Yoruba. "When I come back from school, I will always sit down with him and all the other people who came to learn to play and make drums. Every member of our family can play, but I am the only one doing it full time."

Shaworo Ide

When NEXT asked him to play, he did, playing on the biggest of the talking drums, the Iya Ilu. It had two leather patches lined with brass bells tied around both ends.

"That is the Shaworo Ide," Rasaq Ayankinka explained. "In those days, there were some chiefs you couldn't get close to if your drum didn't have it. Nowadays, the real ones are scarce and very expensive. A white man once came to try and duplicate the Shaworo Ide. He did not succeed. My father always washed it after every fasting period. He would make us use omi dun (fermented pap water) and sponge to scrub until they shone. If it did not shine enough, you had to scrub again."

The older man might have left the practice, but he had stories to tell. He said the drum is a deity and should be respected.

"If an Iya Ilu should break, you have to bury it like a human. The elders would perform sacrifices and the drum must be buried in a white sheet. Nobody should intentionally destroy a drum, it is forbidden."

Lone ranger

Although the rave among young Lagos musicians is the use of modern technology, young Kehinde is happy to remain a traditional percussionist. While he uses ancient methods to make drums, his father uses current spraying equipment to finish his carpentry work.

"That is the true sign of an ‘Ayan'," said the proud father. "He doesn't care if he is mocked, and will happily play his drums anywhere. If (President) Yar'Adua should enter this house now, Kehinde will play for him without fear."

The young man who lost his twin brother at birth is already a veteran, having played for Ata Wewe and Pasuma Wonder, two leading musicians in Fuji music. He has his own band and has recorded an album.

The secondary school leaver hopes to be as good as his grandfather some day. He wants to be famous for being the first Muslim to release a Highlife album, laced with gospel lyrics.

"I have been playing for churches all my life, so it's not a problem," he said. "The most important thing for me is for my grandfather's art to remain alive."