A woman is crying. Although she is sobbing and wiping tears from her face, she does not seem sad. In fact, her smile is larger than that of the performer she is watching: Mr. Sidiki Conde. The other 60 or so mentally disabled members of the audience (at a mental health program in lower Manhattan, summer 2001), many of whom are also hearing impaired, watch in disbelief and awe as Sidiki dances, sings, and plays the drum. Their awe comes from the strength of Mr. Conde’s voice, the power of his drumbeat, and the beauty of his music. Their disbelief is from the fact that Sidiki dances without using his legs. When asked, he will explain that when he was fourteen he “fell down and never got up,” and later confronted this disability with the power of his personality.

Although his lyrics are in his native West African tongue, everyone understands what Sidiki is singing. The songs praise life, God, and, most touching of all, limitless human capabilities. He introduced one piece saying,”People call me handicapped. But I am not. I can dance, sing, and think. I can do whatever I want to do.” Everyone applauds, even before the song begins. Many members of this audience at the Federation Employment and Guidance Service program have heard themselves referred to as “handicapped;” it is obvious from their responses that Sidiki’s attitude about his disability touches them.

The woman who was crying earlier is now dancing with Sidiki. She is stamping her feet to the beat of a drum while he dances on his hands, flailing his tiny legs and bobbing his head from side to side. The audience can see that his talent comes from more than just novelty. With or without use of his legs, Sidiki makes clear that he has been chosen for a life of music and dance.

“How did you get up on the stage?” asks a young boy attending Sidiki’s Rockland County Children’s Psychiatric Hospital performance. Sidiki answers: “That’s a good question,” and he jumps off the stage onto the palms of his own hands. The audience gasps. He reaches one arm up and pulls himself back onto the stage. “You see! I can do anything!” The children cheer.

Sidiki Conde was an orchestra member of 22 Bandes de Kan Kan and then a dancer with Les Merveilles in Guinea, West Africa. He founded Message de l’Espoir (Message of Hope), an orchestra of artists with disabilities, and his own dance company, Tokounou. He has performed with every major African artist, from Baba Maal to Youssouf N’Dour. In May 2000, he handcycled across America for 22 days as part of an athletic and humanitarian event. Sidiki is in no way confined; he enlarges any world he enters.