In October 2024 I attended Sidiki Dembélé’s two-week African percussion and dance course in Abobo, Abidjan. The energy of the people and the place captivated me so much that I returned in January this year for another five weeks to learn, listen, observe, and document the everyday life of this special and magical community.
The following is an excerpt from some writing I’ve been doing while living with the Dembélé griot family.
The Rehearsal
The day begins early, even though full band rehearsal isn’t scheduled until 10 AM. Around 8 AM, I can hear movement in the courtyard as the boys start preparing for the day. They check the djembes, set up the sound system, and handle all the general prep work. By 9:45 AM, the djembe players begin their warm-up, a ritual not to be missed.
The warm-up starts at a slow tempo, gradually building in intensity. As they tighten the groove, it feels like the air itself changes, gets thicker, charged with electricity. Just when it feels like they have reached the pinnacle, they go faster. And faster. The faster they play, the tighter and more in sync they become. Their hands move so quickly, it’s impossible to follow, a blur, like the many-armed figures from psychedelic posters from the 60’s and 70’s. Their bodies are drenched in sweat, faces marked by that distinct expression percussionists wear when they are in a state of flow. They are not just playing rhythm; they are embodying it. There is no way to truly describe what it feels like to witness this. It’s a kind of magic created by their almost superhuman skill. These musicians have been playing together since childhood, deeply connected, and the groove they create is extraordinary. And this is just their casual warm-up on a Tuesday morning.
At exactly 10 AM, the full band rehearsal begins. By then, musicians have gathered all around Sidiki’s home. Not everyone rehearses at once, some of the djembe players are out back, working on crafting new instruments. They have been at it for days now, making the djembes. The process is labour-intensive: they buy the skins dry, soak them in water for about half an hour, shave them with razors, then stretch them over metal rings. The colourful robes are wrapped around the rings , while the wooden casings are treated with oil to protect the wood. Finally, they weave the robe around the drum to secure the ring. It’s a meticulous process requiring immense physical strength, patience, and care. The boys approach it with such grace and dedication, and it’s easy to see how their sculpted bodies and superhuman strength are a result of both playing and making these instruments.
Just before 10 AM, the djembe players, fully warmed up, call for Fatim, the lead singer. She’s been having breakfast next door with the women of the family. They start with the song Tama. Michael on bass, Malick on keys, and Solo on the balafon finish setting up their instruments, and the full band kicks off rehearsal.Each song is played at least twice, with pauses in between to fine-tune arrangements until they align perfectly with Sidiki’s vision. I record every take as there is so much to learn from how Sidiki teaches, how he directs the band with confidence and clarity. He knows exactly what he wants and patiently guides the musicians until they deliver it. Today, Malick was learning the piano part of one song. While he worked on that, the djembe players took a break, waiting patiently until the part was nailed before rejoining.
Other songs followed the same process, if any musician needed to learn their part, the rest would wait, and once everyone was ready, they’d play the song a couple of times through.
At one point, Sidiki noticed a sound issue and asked his sound engineer, Lago to change the speakers. What I saw next seemed impossible: Lago lifted a speaker that must have weighed 40 kilos, balanced it on his head, and placed it on a stand taller than him, as if the speaker were made of feathers, not wood and metal.
Break
Around midday, we broke for lunch. The women of the family cooked for at least 20 people, maybe more. The break lasted a couple of hours. During this time, Fatim, the lead singer, taught the new backing vocalist the songs. Solo accompanied them on the balafon while I sat quietly in a corner, trying not to disturb them and just listening. Fatim’s voice is rich, full, and confident, she knows the songs so well it feels like the songs are singing her, not the other way around. The backing vocalist learned quickly, picking up the lyrics and melody after hearing them just a couple of times.
Afternoon
After lunch, rehearsal resumed. Some of the djembe players swapped out with those who’d been building drums in the morning. There was no difference in the masterful execution of the songs, the guys who’d been working on the instruments had been listening to the rehearsal all along and seamlessly jumped in. The new backing singer joined, and it all sounded great. They continued rehearsing until 6 PM.
Evening
Later that evening, when the family was relaxing in the courtyard, I asked Sidiki about his creative process. I wanted to know if he envisioned all parts of a song in advance or let the musicians create their own. He said, ‘you can’t teach what you don’t know. ‘All creation is already there; I just need to teach the musicians’. I asked if the new song the band was working on today would be on the new album. He told me he has about 20 pieces of music ready in his mind but hasn’t decided yet which ones to choose for the album. ‘Everything is already there; it just needs to be recorded’.
Reflecting on the day, I remarked on how intense and full the rehearsal had been. I asked if they were preparing for an upcoming performance. Sidiki nodded, saying they had a show in a couple of weeks, but also said that the length of rehearsal had nothing to do with it. Their Monday to Wednesday rehearsals are always full-day sessions. Today was nothing special, just another ordinary day!
Essential information
A Griot family is a lineage of West African oral historians, musicians, and storytellers who preserve and transmit history, culture, and traditions through spoken word, music, and song. Griots serve as genealogists, praise singers, and advisors, passing their knowledge down through generations.
Balafon - African xylophone
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