Eritrean Concerts: Mobs Rule The Stage
By Biniam Tekle
August 15, 2008
Standing center stage with a broad smile streaked across her face, microphone grasped in both hands, and the band members hammering at their instruments behind her, the singer moves her head from side to side like a windshield wiper. From her vantage point she looks down at the faces of her fans and their bopping heads. The stage platform is surrounded by scores of people. And so begins the stage drama that is typical of Eritrean concerts. An arm with fist full of dollar bills comes flying and jams the money in to the singer's cleavage, the artist recoils from the impact, her eyelids flatter and she continues to sing … firfir ela ayeney.
The onslaught continues unabated as groups of people pour-in one after another, from the left and right wing of the stage. Some of the individuals come sashaying across the stage tagging at their own shirt, shoulder drooping to one side, with an intermittent violent jerk to the other side basically reducing the gWaila dance to a Harlem Shake.
Knowing fully what was about to happen next, the singer continues to sing smiling at the sweaty fan standing in front of her, arms shoot out slapping dollar bills into her bosoms, she gulps-in air and continue to sing … Hileyeley … her shrill voice bellows from the speakers and cut through the arena's thick air. A tall pot-bellied stage reveler wraps his arms around the singer's neck in a tight grasp conjuring up an image of a schoolyard bully holding a victim's head in a painful headlock. The singer continues to sing … toTorog abile hiji'ye ziTkuso … but makes no attempt at wriggling free.
Little kids come in cluster groups prodding each other forward moving to what looks like New Orleans' musical funeral procession, then they stand huddled around the singer and pull her down to their level forcing her to bow awkwardly, the kids land tiny messy kisses right up-in-her-face and leave the stage exactly the same way they came in. The singer carries on singing … zWeledet tiWled.
Men would come RWI (running while intoxicated) and shove the dollar bills into the opening on the singer's chest, she flinches as if scratched by unmanicured fingernails but continues to sing … hadi'A ala lomi. Some individuals would stride around the singer, striking a pose as if to suggest wealth and abundance, while tossing stacks of single dollar bills into the air in fast successions to see them come down swirling like confetti around the singer's shoulders.
The spectacle goes on, others would come running in full throttle and make sudden swerves to avoid the stage handlers, looking from the stage peripheries one can't help but think, oh dear a head-on collision is inevitable. Luckily, at the last minute it is averted. But then the stage invader moves swiftly and in a scene reminiscent of a boxing referee raising the hand of the winner, the singer's arm is yanked up to the sky, painfully high. Seconds latter the hand is let go and it comes down plummeting unceremoniously. The singer continues to sing taking it all in stride, but one wonders how does she feel inside?
I am sure you have figured it out by now but the stage spectacle that I described above happened to Helen Meles during the Washington D.C. festival concerts over the past weekend. Unfortunately, this type of stage fiasco is a regular occurrence where Eritrean concerts take place, be it in small or big venues. Even the singers are resigned to the fact that this type of behavior exhibited by some of the audience members is a long standing cultural phenomenon that they have to contend with.
Asked about what he thought of the rough display of emotions by over-excited fans, the late singer songwriter Abraham Afewerki once recounted a story in which he was physically hurt during one of his live shows. A fan came darting at him in a middle of a song wrapping his arms around the singer in the process driving the microphone right into his mouth. Abraham had to finish the song undeterred while swallowing his own blood that was oozing from cut lips. Asked how he felt about that, the singer lamented, when the incident happened he felt furious at the recklessness of the fan but he had to brush it off as something that is nothing out of the ordinary.
For great majority of Eritrean concertgoers, the musical events provide an opportunity to see performances of their favorite songs or their favorite artists perform live. Although one does not see hysterical fans screaming their brains out ala rock concerts, Eritrean stages are shared by fans and performers equally in a milieu of stage mayhem that is surely a source of frustration to those who paid precious dollars in order to see their favorite artists perform, unhindered and uninterrupted.
Audience behaving strangely is not unique to Eritreans but obviously our concert etiquette needs addressing. Physical contacts driven by row emotions and enhanced by alcohol intakes could pose dangerous consequences for performer and fan alike. As a result, the stage should be a no-go area. Grownups should stop shoving kids to the stage in which there are high voltage cables as well as heavy instruments scattered everywhere. There should exist a physical delineation between the space the artist holds and the space the audience occupies. Organizers should make it easier for fans to express their appreciations, position buckets or boxes where fans can drop their moneys, close to the stage but away from the performer. That way, those of us who are there to see a show can see our favorite artists perform uninterrupted, while those who want to shower the singer with dollar bills can still do that, from a distance. A win-win situation for everybody.
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