Why I do what I do?

1. How did you get started in this?
2. What’s your other job?
3. Why do you tell stories?

These questions, and many more, are the reason I’ve restructured my web site and made numerous changes to the way I do what I do.

What moved me towards the life of a professional storyteller? I have a ton of tales about this, but I’ll share just one that haunts me, in a pleasant way, everytime I address this topic.

I was doing a residency at an elementary school in Long Beach California some years back. I was teaching the children about the power and virility of their own words. Anytime the class collectively grasp an idea or concept I entertain them with a tale.

Well, on this one occasion, the children were obsessing over the idea of death. I think it had something to do with a topic in one of the “Harry Potter” books or something like that. So I launched into a very popular story by the Jabo people of Liberia, West Africa. The tale dealt with fantasy, enchantment and the marvels of the dichotomies between life and death. The tale ends with a lesson about the importance of remembering dead.

I completed that day’s work and went home without reflecting on it at all.

Three weeks later I had to return to the school to visit more classrooms. Outside was the typical hustle/bustle of the morning parent/child “gotta get to school on time” rush.

A pregnant woman with a child on her hip stepped in front of me before I could enter the office.

“Are you Baba?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

It was at this point that she said that she had waited here looking for me. She had come to speak to me about a story I told her daughter.

I tensed!

She explained that a week ago, her father-in-law had died. I apologized for her loss. She then explained that, after the funeral, the entire family had gathered at she and her husband’s home. Everyone was in the living room, distraught and in tears. No one was talking, they were just releasing the grief within. Everyone seemed to be at a point of despair except for her 9 year old daughter.

Her daughter approached her and asked why everyone was so sad. Her mother explained that it was due to the passing of her grandfather.

It was at this point that her daughter grabbed her hand and caressed it, telling her that she shouldn’t feel sad because the storyteller had told her that, as long as we keep a memory of someone in our minds they never truly die.

The mother then thanked me for sharing that with her daughter because it changed the entire mood of the house. Everyone felt renewed at her daughter’s words.

When people ask me why I do what I do, I wish I could explain succinctly, but I can’t. There are too many stories to tell.

Baba (aka “Jeliba”)

“dooni dooni kononi be nyaga da!”