Among the cultural practices that enlivened communal life in Ayetoro, masquerade performances held during coastal festivals occupied a distinctive place. While the town was primarily defined by the Apostolic faith and its emphasis on spiritual purity, cultural expressions connected to Ilaje heritage remained visible in certain public events. The masquerade was one such expression, providing an opportunity for performance, symbolism, and the reinforcement of collective memory.
Archival photographs from the 1950s and 1960s depict striking images of masqueraders adorned in elaborate costumes made from raffia, cloth, beads, and shells. Masks were crafted from wood and often painted with bold designs, transforming the performer into a figure of mystery and reverence. The masqueraders moved through sandy streets or open courtyards, accompanied by drummers, singers, and crowds of onlookers. Children followed eagerly, while elders observed with both pride and caution, aware of the spiritual associations that accompanied the spectacle.
Oral testimonies describe these masquerade performances as layered in meaning. They were simultaneously entertainment, ritual, and social commentary. Masqueraders danced with vigorous steps, their movements synchronised with the complex rhythms of drums and gongs. Songs provided narration, sometimes praising the community’s resilience, sometimes satirising misconduct or calling for moral reform. In this way, the masquerade functioned as both celebration and critique, reminding Ayetoro’s people of their responsibilities to one another.
The coastal setting added further significance. Performances were staged near the shoreline, where the sea breeze animated the raffia costumes and the sound of waves blended with drumming. The proximity to the ocean underscored the connection between cultural identity and environment. For the Ilaje people, the sea was not only a source of livelihood but also a realm of spiritual symbolism, and the masquerade at the coast evoked both ancestral presence and divine guardianship.
While some Apostles regarded masquerades with suspicion, concerned about their pre-Christian associations, others saw them as cultural heritage that could coexist with the community’s new spiritual orientation. Oral accounts suggest that the boundary between faith and culture was carefully managed: masquerades were presented as festivals of identity rather than objects of worship. In this way, Ayetoro retained elements of its Ilaje past while adapting them to its Apostolic vision.
Visitors to the town frequently remarked on the vibrancy of these occasions. To outsiders, the masquerade performance appeared as a powerful affirmation of African cultural creativity, blending costume, music, dance, and theatre in a single event. For the people of Ayetoro, however, it was above all a communal experience — a moment when the town gathered in unity, celebrated its heritage, and reaffirmed its bond with both land and sea.
Although coastal erosion and shifting practices have diminished the frequency of such performances, the memory of masquerades at festivals remains a vital part of Ayetoro’s archive. The images of masked figures dancing by the shoreline remind us that the Happy City was not only a place of prayer and labour but also of artistry, celebration, and cultural resilience.
