A journey into the heart of the Fulah people – their music, their cosmology, and the shimmering threads that connect them to the spirit world.
The Nèkè is the fundamental vibration, the primal pulse from which all things arise. It’s not merely a sound, but a *feeling*, a resonance within the bone itself. Within Fulah cosmology, the Nèkè is the voice of the Creator, Djawara, who shaped the world with his song. Historically, the Nèkè was embodied by the *Kèè*, a priestly class, who meticulously transcribed the patterns of the Nèkè into intricate geometric designs – not on paper, but into the very fabric of their settlements, the patterns woven into the grass, the stones laid in the pathways, the curve of the huts themselves. These aren't just aesthetic choices; they are active attempts to maintain a harmonic relationship with Djawara, to ensure the fertility of the land and the well-being of the community. The most skilled Kèè could, through a prolonged, meditative state, 'read' the Nèkè, predicting droughts, illnesses, and even the movements of livestock. This 'reading' wasn't done with instruments, but through an intense, almost unbearable, focus on the inherent vibration of the world. It’s said that during these periods, the air itself would shimmer with iridescent light, and the voices of ancestors would whisper through the reeds.
Djawara, the Creator, is often referred to as the “Singer of the Stars.” His songs are believed to be the source of all light and warmth. He isn’t a deity in the traditional sense of judgment and punishment. Instead, he’s a force of generative energy, a constant outpouring of creativity. The Fulah believe that when a child is born, Djawara sings a specific song – a song of welcome, of potential, of connection to the network of all things. This song is often manifested as an unusually bright flash of light, a shimmering heat haze, and a profound sense of peace. The Kèè would then respond with a complementary song, reinforcing the child’s connection to the Creator and establishing their place within the cosmic order. Accounts from the 18th and 19th centuries tell of elaborate rituals designed to ‘catch’ Djawara’s song, utilizing precisely calibrated percussion instruments – primarily the *gèè*, a type of large, gourd-based drum, and the *fèè*, a type of xylophone made from carefully selected hardwoods. The sound of these instruments, when played with the correct intention and technique, was believed to create a ‘window’ through which Djawara’s voice could be heard directly.
The *Gèè* is far more than just a drum. It’s a vessel, a resonator, a conduit. The material itself – traditionally sourced from a specific species of gourd that grows only in the highlands – is believed to possess inherent vibrational properties. The drumheads, made from the skin of a large antelope, are stretched over the gourd with a resin derived from the bark of the *fèè* tree. The shape of the gourd, the tension of the skin, the rhythmic striking of the drum – all contribute to the unique sonic signature of the instrument. During ceremonies, the *Gèè* is played not just to produce a sound, but to manipulate the very fabric of reality. The Kèè would use complex rhythmic patterns to summon spirits, to heal the sick, and to influence the weather. It’s said that a skilled player could ‘tune’ the *Gèè* to resonate with the specific vibrational frequency of a desired outcome. This isn’t a conscious act of control; it’s a process of attunement, a merging of the player’s will with the inherent patterns of the universe. The sound of the *Gèè* is often described as “liquid,” “flowing,” and “eternal.”