In my lovely Warima, the arrival of the brushing season signaled the start of upland rice farming and heralded a time of unity, tradition, and communal labour. This annual event brought together neighbouring villages like Maserie, Magbankapi, Mafofayah, Makabu, and Rogberay in a collaborative effort to prepare the land for cultivation.
As the dry season reached its peak, the Chief of Warima would send out invitations to the surrounding villages These messengers didn’t bring ordinary news—they brought an invitation for one of the most important events of the year.
“The time has come,” they would announce to each village, “for us to work together and prepare our fields. Warima needs your strong young men and their sharp machetes!”
The villages always responded with excitement. Young men would spend the evening sharpening their machetes. These were important instruments for the community work ahead. The night before, everyone showed excitement. Mothers packed food, fathers gave advice, and everyone prepared for the big day to come.
Journey to Warima
At the first light of dawn, groups of young men gathered and began their walk to Warima. The cool morning air filled with their footsteps and lively conversations:
“I heard Warima’s women have made the best food this year. Their cassava leaf soup with smoked fish is amazing!” one young man from Mafofayah might say.
“Last year, Makabu’s team cleared their section super fast. This year, Magbankapi will be the fastest!” another would reply with a competitive smile.
“My son just took his first steps yesterday,” a new father would share proudly. “Maybe next season, he’ll walk to the fields with me.”
“Remember when Sullay thought a snake was just a stick? His scream was so loud, birds flew away from three villages!” someone would joke, making everyone laugh.
These fun conversations made the journey seem shorter. With each step, they grew closer to Warima and to each other.
Arriving for Work
When they arrived at Warima, the Chief welcomed them warmly. He asked someone to divide the bushy land into sections, giving each village their own area to clear. This created a friendly competition—every village wanted to do the best job, but they all knew they were working toward the same goal.
Then the transformation began! The sound of machetes—laynth-laynth, hence nicknamed Warima laynth-laynth—cutting through grass and small trees could be heard far and wide. Calls of encouragement and jokes flew back and forth as the men worked. Slowly, the wild bush changed into clear land that would soon be ready for planting rice.
The Women’s Important Role
The women played a crucial part too. They women joined the walk to assist the Warima women in the cooking. The smells that came from the pots made everyone’s mouths water—spicy stews, rich sauces, and perfectly cooked rice. As they prepared the food, they had their own lively conversations:
“Adding just a bit of fermented beans makes this stew taste amazing,” one might say while grinding peppers.
“Did you notice how Mariama and that tall young man from Makabu keep finding reasons to talk to each other?” another would whisper with a knowing smile.
“Aminata’s headwrap today looks so beautiful. I need to learn how to tie mine like that before the next festival,” someone would admire.
“The new midwife in Maserie helped with three births last week. She’s really skilled,” another might share, spreading important news.
These conversations strengthened bonds between women and kept traditions alive.
Mealtime: An Opportunity
When the sun reached its highest point, the Chief’s representative would blow a horn to signal lunch time. This break was carefully planned to build community.
Instead of sitting with their own villages, the men would mix together around large shared bowls. A man from Warima might share a meal with men from Rogberay, Makabu, and Maserie—creating new friendships across village lines.
During these meals, they would share more than just food:
“This groundnut stew is incredible,” someone might say with closed eyes, enjoying every bite. “Which village’s women made this?”
“In Makabu, we use special herbs in our cooking oil. It makes everything taste better. My sister could show your wife how we do it,” another would offer.
“During our festivals in Rogberay, we have special dances passed down from our ancestors. Maybe we could perform them at the harvest celebration this year,” someone would suggest.
“After harvest season, we should organise a football match between our villages. Not to see who’s best, but to have fun together,” another might plan.
Our Experience as Children
For the youngest members of the community—including Osman who tells this story—the brushing season was a time of learning and adventure. Too young to use machetes but too curious to stay home, these children would hang around the edges of the work areas.
They quickly learnt to sense when food was about to be served. Suddenly, they would appear out of nowhere, ready to help with small tasks like fetching water or passing out bowls—anything to earn a spot at the meal.
Young Osman remembers one day when, after helping out, he was given a generous portion of food. He ate so much that walking home became a challenge—his stomach so full that each step was a struggle!
The Journey Back Home to the Villages
As the sun began to set, painting the newly cleared land with red and gold light, the men would put away their tools. Tired but satisfied, they gathered their things and prepared to head home. Even as they left, they continued to build community through their conversations:
“That groundnut stew was the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I need to find out who made it,” one might say, the memory giving him energy for the walk home.
“We cleared more land than we expected to. When the rains come, we’ll have a great harvest,” another would say with pride.
“The young guys from Rogberay have so much energy! They’re great workers,” someone would comment, appreciating their neighbours.
“Next month, our village will host the work day. We need to make sure our hospitality is just as good as Warima’s,” another would plan.
The walk home—bodies tired but spirits high—completed the day’s circle. Everyone returned changed, carrying the satisfaction of work completed and new connections and shared experiences. Though the physical distance between villages stayed the same, the people had grown closer together.
Farming and More
The brushing season in Warima was about preparing land for rice and showing the best of human community—proving that borders between villages and people could easily disappear when everyone worked toward a common goal with open hearts.
In this tradition, preparing land for growing rice became a symbol for growing community—clearing away isolation, planting friendship, nurturing cooperation, and eventually harvesting a prosperity that everyone shared.
So on this Labour Day, May 1, as we honour the importance of work, let’s celebrate Warima and its neighbouring villages. Let’s learn from their wisdom about how to solve our modern problems.
Have a bondolicious Labour Day!
