Fright night not the way I want things

SCARED OFF: Skulls and other frightening costumes are a bit too close to home

“YOU are not going to somebody’s house dressed as a tokoloshe!” I said firmly. “It’s not going to happen.”

“What’s a ticklish?” S, always mesmerised by new words, wanted to know.

“Tokoloshe! It’s like a zombie,” snapped K.

“Ooooooh! Can I also go as a tocklish, mom?” S pleaded.

“Tokoloshe!” I corrected. “Nobody is going to go as a tokoloshe or anything that closely resembles dead people, ghosts or other bad things. And that’s that.”

Halloween is not an Indian tradition. Unlike Diwali or even Christmas and Easter, Halloween holds no memories for me. Nothing. I can’t recall even a vague mention of it in any of the Enid Blyton books I read constantly.

Halloween just didn’t exist in my world . . . until K and S received an invitation to their first Halloween party. I eyed the invitation with great suspicion — neon skeleton superimposed on black paper with thick smudges of red paint resembling congealed blood. This was bad. Very bad.

“We have to dress up, Ma, for trick or treating,” K explained. “I’ve decided to stick to a South African theme and go as a tokoloshe.”

And that’s how it all began.

Most of us grew up in a time of passionate superstition, old wives’ tales and an equal fear of God and the devil.

Sami (God) was always going to poke our eyes if we lied. The Seven Fairies were always waiting in the bushes to snare us as we walked home from school. Our most famous ghost, Highway Sheila, was standing there on the side of Higginson Highway, patiently waiting for you to give her a lift. Long hair had to be tied up at night or the devil would grab hold of you, and bad jinn (supernatural creatures) of every variety were deftly created by witch doctors and muti men who had dark hearts and evil minds.

With this history, I can’t be blamed for not being keen on Halloween. It was like an invitation into a dark world, which I wanted nothing to do with.

“You need to chill a bit,” Best Friend advised. “Please tell me you haven’t scared the children witless with stories about what the Seven Fairies can do if they get hold of you?”

“No man! They don’t even know who Highway Sheila is,” I protested.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Simple. I did not want my children playing on the “dark side”.

“You do know that there’s no such thing as jinn, fairies or ghosts?” said Best Friend.

“Yes, I know that now. However, I can’t see any positive to dressing up as a tokoloshe or wearing a pair of horns on your head,” I said. “Why not?” “It just doesn’t feel right. Can you imagine in our day if we told our parents we were going to dress up as evil spirits and run around the neighbourhood in the dark taking sweets from people? What do you think they would have said?” I felt I was making a strong point.

“Ya, I can just imagine the conversation — ‘Gonum, where you heard like this? These rubbish children want to dress like devils and run everywhere in the night? I must take by Temple Thatha to brush them with the feathers and take out whatever bad thing caught them.’ But that was those days. These days things are different,” Best Friend both conceded and denied.

That’s when it came to me. We were going to do Halloween my way. No dressing up as anything supernatural or evil. No tokoloshe.

K and S think I’m mad. They don’t understand why Halloween has to be this way. I don’t care. When they have their own jobs, cars and homes, they can do whatever they want.

S went dressed as a frog and K a golfer, complete with a club. In return for sweets, K did tricks with a golf ball and S was happy to hop around other people’s lawns. They both did very well in the sweet-stakes.

It would have been perfect had the children allowed me to add our leftover burfee from Diwali to our host’s sweet offerings. (Don’t you think the burfee would have been so much better than those Fizzers?)

“Mom, there is no such thing as an Indian Halloween!” K squealed.

She’s lucky there’s no official Indian version of Halloween. If there had been, she and her brother would not have slept for weeks because nobody does creepy and weird like us!

devi.sankaree@intekom. co.za

@Devi_SG