Finally, I could see the long, silk flag fall from the mountain peak, draping lengthways down the jagged cliff.
Rock beneath silk threatened the shimmer of the flag’s satin sun.
Car doors open, music blaring, a procession led back to the top as each person carried a flame torch to the peak and we all danced around the bonfire taking turns to jump through it, soles of feet catching the tips of flames, legs of the living dancing with billowing thighs of the dead.

• Jala Wahid, Baba Gurgur, 2018

Joint opening with Croy Nielsen and Emanuel Layr.