Glimpses into the world of Bandi Payne – Part III

by Dr Richard A Byron-Cox

At the end of Part II, Bandi said he’s at peace in Shashamane. But his mere “yes” provided no real illumination about his life. I needed the complete picture!!

“How you make your living?” Do you work?”

“This is my work,” came his calm definitive response. “This is the world’s only banana art and craft museum. Come, take a tour.” He knew my thinking. Following him, with Dr Bahir in trail, I entered a room about 15 sq feet in size; its one window with the opened door, offered adequate lighting. Undecorated talent greeted me!{{more}} The walls were covered with banana art work of various sizes, relating different themes and perfused by rainbow colours and much more. I realized my privilege. I was humbled.

“You don’t mind me taking some time looking, please,” I very humbly asked.

“Take you time and take pictures, as many as you like.” I was so intrigued by it all that I didn’t speak for a while. He allowed us our “swallow moment,” then continued, “This is the only picture here,” he said pointing to a huge blown up photograph of Emperor Haile Selassie in full regalia. “Everything else is art work.” I took a closer look at the picture, as he added, “My name is Hailu Teferi, but the Ethiopians call me Hailu Tafari, which is significant. His Majesty is a great man and visionary. That dam they are building and much more of what they are doing to develop Ethiopia are his ideas and plans.” He stepped away and went behind a long stall-like table, which was at the end of the room obliquely opposite to the door and produced some papers. Sure enough, they depicted designs of the dam, but were clearly drawings from an earlier time. But politics can wait; I wanted to immerse myself in his work.

My thoughts on each piece and my creation of my own story for each were interrupted. “Hailu, you did all of this?” It was the voice of a clearly awestruck Dr Bahir.

“Yes, this and more. Sometimes my wife helps here and there, but designing, cutting and painting are all done by me.”

“Wow,” came back Dr Bahir, “and all from banana leaves?”

“Leaves and body. That room there is my workshop,” he said, pointing to an open door. “You can take a look.” I joined Dr Bahir in the room where we saw piles of banana tree body and pieces of art work in different stages of completion. I returned to the display room and my mind was captured by a mesmerizing piece titled “Hurricane Janet 1955.” He again saw through my thoughts. “This is my interpretation of Hurricane Janet. You are too young to have experienced it, but you heard of it, right?” I gave a slow and thoughtful nod and he continued, “This is how I pictured it in my mind.”

“This is your greatest piece I have seen. This is pure genius.” I meant every word. “I don’t have that amount of money in cash and you don’t have credit card facilities?”

“No, I don’t. And yes, many say this is a great work. It depicts how violent these things can be.”

“Do you get many visitors?” I wanted to know.

“It varies, sometimes a lot, sometimes none. But they come from all over: Belgium, France, States, England, everywhere. They come here because this is the only museum of its kind in the world.” I could virtually touch his pride and satisfaction.

“And these bracelets? You made them as well?” Dr Bahir had found his tongue again.

“Yes, everything here is my work. I can work in metal as well.”

“So, this is how you make your living?” I queried “You do nothing else?”

“Yes… When I just came here, I used to teach in an English school, but not anymore due to certain difficulties. So, I spend my time here.” I made a mental note to ask about the “difficulties.”

“And you do all this from a banana plant,” said Dr Bahir, as he took another panoramic glance of everything, nodding his head in genuine appreciation.

“Each man has a gift. This is mine.” This was said with no braggadocio, just a simple statement of fact.

“I can see you are contented here.” My tone left room for this to be interpreted as a statement or question.

“I am alright.” To me the answer was one of resignation. Was there a flip side to this story? Can I get him to tell it to me?

Part IV: Life in a Kingdom without justice