It holds still a moment, then the percussion steps in dry and light.

Her voice comes in already on nalen and seya — no big wind-up.

Just the title by itself: Seya.

She's back on the long line, and those seya answers start hanging off the ends.

Hear that little extra weight under the beat? She's headed to the big market now, and someone laughs in the middle of it.

Bama Niare market — buying basin cloth, handing it to the dyer, getting it ready to wear.

Now she's naming the tailors: Boubakari, Soumaîla, Salama — each one answered with seya.

The cloth turns into a little skirt, a taille-basse, something you can actually step out in.

Back to nalen and seya, greeting Mali's children again like the top of the song.

She stretches that cry — eh eh haaaa — and the low end gathers, then lifts under her.

Another market pass, then real laughter right in the track.

Madina Coura this time — braiding hair, same bright seya answers around her.

The beat's still easy to step to, but the accents lean a little harder here.

Bayabasa, bayurusa, bayoroba — stacked chants, and the whole thing lightens as they roll.

Last clear lead line, then the groove just keeps circulating without a new verse.

It's letting go now — same pattern, less push.

And it drops straight into silence. You feel how much was moving once it stops.