W2B001T
Maxi: The smooth reggaeman
EVER since the unfortunate passing of reggae legend Bob Marley in 1981, the music scene has had a void unfilled which many <-/imposters> have tried to fill along the way.
The roll-call of names is endless, however, good reggae music did come from acts like Ziggy Marley (of course), Steel Pulse, Third World Black Uhuru, Bunny Wailer and many others.
Still the pop culture hadn't really <-/embranced> anyone as devoutly as Bob Marley, who was true roots and culture, promoting rastafari and calling for peace.
However, in 1978, a couple of years before, while Bob was working his smash hit album "KAYA " London-born Max Priest began his career in music by joining Saxon International, one of London's notorious reggae sound systems.
By 1980, the year island records released Marley's popular "Uprising" album, which included his hit "Could You be Loved", Maxi and fellow saxon member Philip Levi collaborated on "My God Me King", which became the first British reggae record to top the charts in Jamaica.
From that point on, Max had his eyes on a solo career, which resulted in many singles until 1985, when he was signed to 10 records ( a British subsidiary of virgin records).
His debut album for 10 records company "You Are Safe" (a compilation of those earlier singles), gave him the luxury of giving up his carpentry work to concentrate on his music career.
By the time 1986's "Intention" was released, he was topping the British charts with "Strollin'", "Crazy Love" "Let Me Know", by this time he had amassed a huge underground following all over.
Following were the "Maxi" album, with singles; "Some Guys Have All The Luck" and the top 10 pop hit wild world", and touring throughout Europe, Japan, Jamaica and the US with the likes of Sly & Robbie and the hot red toaster of the time, yellowman.
Moving on the groundbreaking year of 1990, Maxi released his "Bona Fide" album on charisma records, his collaborative effort with Jazzie B. and Nellie Hooper, Geoffrey Chung, Sly Dunbar, Handel Tucker and Augustus "Gussie" Clark. The album's smash hit "Close to you", went on to become the first reggae record to top the US pop charts and a top 5 <-/rythm> and blues hit.
"That album allowed me to express different musical aspects,' from reggae to soul, when "Close To You" took off, a lot of people who were not into reggae got into it. I felt that when it got to the top of the charts, everyone who had been such an important part in reggae - like Bob Marley - and many other pioneers - had created the pathway for that to happen," says Maxi.
He had finally become a top player on the pop scene not only with his own album and single, but with the hugely popular urban smash hit "Housecall" (with shabba ranks) and "Set The Night to Music" (his duet with Roberta Flack). Keeping his new high profile, his video played non-stop on MTV, bet and VHI, and he toured with the famous reggae sunsplash.
Summing up his new popularity, and the near platinum success of "Bona Fide", maxi priest concludes, "The Success of Bands Like soul II soul and U B40 played a big part in the reaction I got with that album. A lot of doors have been opened now we're not at the end of the road yet!"
It's now 1993, dancehall has begun to show signs of becoming the next huge music trend with the huge successes of Shabba Ranks, Supercat, Mad Cibra and the dance-hall-influenced music of top stars.
Maxi in preparing his follow-up on "Bonafide", realized that he wanted to tap into the vibe sustained by the "Housecall" production crew which included Dave Morales, Handel Tucker, Mickey Bennet and Sly Dunbar. Therefore he recruited the same team of players, along with Simon Law (of soul II soul fame), Gussi Clark, to produce his new set he chose to record in the YK., Jamaica, and US.
The product of this global collaboration, "Fe Real", features ten new <-/sensous> and smooth <-/rythm> and blues <-/reggar>/pop tracks (nine co-written by maxi, and promises to keep up with the level of success maxi is used to at this point in his career
"<-/Groovin> in the midnight", the smooth urban slanted first single, with background vocals by club siren gwen guthrie, is shaping up to be the first of a couple smashes to come.
Of the album maxi states, "I think we covered all: ragamuffin, reggae, R&B, pop. this new album is meant to express all the different flavours. I know that my audience is wider now and my objective with this record is to a really appeal to a worldwide audience."
Soon-to-be smashes are the hypnotic dub <-/reggar> /R & B jam "sublime" the straight up <-/reggar> of "Hard To Get" and the smooth swing beat of "Can't turn Away". Stepping into the more traditional R & B <-/flovours>, he turns out the seductive, <-/rythmic> R & B of "One More chance", of which he explains, "I'm a just a sucker for those R & B songs.
I think it has the old Marvin Gaye feel to it."
Other things lined up to keep his profile high again include a tour which will include stops in the West Indies, Japan, Hong Kong, Guam and Hawaii, as well as his acting debut in the movie "scam" (starring Christopher Walken).
However, keeping his mind focused on his music, he clarifies, "This album is just as important to me as when I first came to business. In a way, it reminds me of when I did my first LP. I feel like we've got the same kind of freshness. Yeah man, with this album I'm in gear!"
Looks like reggae music fans have found their new man.
The death of Bruce Lee's son
"The crow" was to be Brandon Lee's breakthrough film. After three martial art movies this one was destined to make him a big star.
In it he played Eric Draven, a rock star who returned from the grave to avenge his own murder and although the filming had been held up <-_a><+_and> dogged by bad luck, the movie's backers were already confident that they had a smash hit on their hands.
But with only a few more days' shooting left, tragedy struck.
Shortly after midnight on March 31, Brandon stepped in front of the cameras to film a simple scene to be edited in at the beginning of the movie, where a drug dealer shoots down Eric Draven.
<-/Actro> Michael Massee, who plays his killer, funboy, was supposed to fire a 44 calibre revolver at Brandon as he walked through his apartment door carrying a bag of groceries.
The bag contained a very small explosive device - known as a squib- which was to detonate when the gun, filled with blanks, went off. But something went catastrophically wrong. Brandon slumped to the floor with blood pouring from a wound in his stomach.
It was perhaps 30 seconds before anybody realised that Brandon wasn't acting anymore.
An ambulance sped him from the set in Wilmington, North Carolina, to the New Hanover Regional Medical Centre and he was rushed into surgery. The operating specialist, Dr. McMurray, spent five hours trying to stop the bleeding, but in vain.
Such were his injuries, that at 1.04 p.m. on Wednesday, March 31 Brandon Lee was declared dead.
The first press reports appeared next morning, with details sketchy at first; in one newspaper his death was blamed on an explosive device that they claimed had been concealed beneath his shirt which had somehow blasted shrapnel into his abdomen.
Another newspaper <-_advance><+_advanced> the theory that the blanks in the gun had been replaced with real bullets. Hollywood was in a state of shock.
Kiefer Sutherland was reported as saying, "I want to know what a real bullet was doing in that gun. I cannot believe his death was an accident."
But one aspect of the tragedy that nobody could ignore was the links between Brandon's death and that of his father Bruce Lee, who died aged 32 - when Brandon was eight.
Like father like son: they both died young, they were both on the verge of fame (Bruce Lee's biggest film, "Enter the Dragon" was released a year after his death) and their deaths were both shrouded in mystery (the official reason for Bruce's death was brain disease, but <-_its'><+_it's> something fans have always doubted).
Chillingly, in the last movie Bruce Lee ever made (called game of death), he played an actor who is shot dead. On a movie set. After someone substituted a live bullet from a dummy round...
Was there a Lee family curse - bad "Fung Che" as it`s known in Hong Kong? Brandon himself is said to have believed so. A friend recalls Brandon's "premonition that he would die, suddenly, on a movie set." But Rob Cohen, who spent four years researching the life of Bruce Lee before writing and directing "Dragon: the Bruce Lee story (to be released soon), has more down-to-earth explanation:
"I do believe in a sense of fate but I don't believe that Brandon and Bruce were fated to die young. Bruce Lee had a brain problem - he fell into a 24-hour coma three months before his death - and many brain problems cannot be detected before they happen.
"As for Brandon Lee, he was killed in an accident on a movie set".
Dragon would be dedicated to the memory of Brandon who, in another ironic twist turned down the chance of appearing in the film, for fear of the demons he believed killed his father.
If nothing else "the <-/cow>" certainly seems to have been cursed. Since the start of the filming on February 1, the film had been plagued with bad luck.
<-/Bizzare> accidents included 27-year-old carpenter Jim Martishius being severely burned by a live power <-/like> that hit his crane; a lorry used in the film mysteriously catching fire; a construction worker putting a screwdriver through his head; and a <-/strom> on March 13 destroying most of the outdoor set.
The day before Brandon died entertainment weekly magazine in America carried an article on the "Curse of the crow". Production co-ordinator, Jennifer Roth, insisted the film was not jinxed. "We have a lot of stunts and effects, and I've been on productions before where people died."
So what did happen? The ballistics report released in America seems to point to a terrible accident. The gun used in the scene - a real.44 magnum, not a replica - was used just before Brandon's death in another scene which required a close up of the gun being loaded with bullets.
These dummy bullets (metal cases with no gunpowder) were removed straight afterwards. Wilmington police detectives said when the gun was unloaded one of the tips from the dummy bullet detached itself and was left in the chamber.
"For the shooting scene, the same gun was loaded with blanks, which used the gunpowder of a real bullet, but with no metal tip. It seems the reaction led to the deadly creation of a live bullet."
Brandon was buried next to his father in a Seattle cemetery. At the Hollywood Hills memorial the next day, Sunday, April 4, family friend and "under siege" star Steven Seagal, who had known Brandon since he was five, was both sad and angry.
"Something is terribly wrong here," said Seagal. " Either somebody tried to murder him or there's some kind of gross negligence. I've been asked to get involved in the investigation. I'd like to because we all cared for him very much"
Other stars paying their respects included Kiefer Sutherland - whose production company Billwater, employed Brandon's fiancee Lisa Hutton - Lou Diamond Phillips and David Hasselhof.
Michael Berryman, the 44-year-old actor playing opposite Brandon in "The crow", said: Brandon put everything into his role. There are moments that show his heart and his soul. The scene haven't filmed are going to <-_he><+_be> hard to film without him, but I would be proud to do it for his memory."
Although the film was halted immediately, it is likely "the Crow" will eventually be released as an epitaph to a promising career cut tragically short.
W2B002T
Ndugu Kiswahili and Sir English
WHEN the British in Tanganyika were packing up in 1961 because one 39-year-old brilliant chap called Nyerere had bought air tickets for them all, one very valuable possession the British came with in the early 1920s didn't quite fit into their crammed suitcases.
They had to leave the sprawling possession behind and asked us to use it if we so wished. We took it and used it - the English language.
But unlike in many places in Africa, the Westminster language didn't walk about so proudly and confidently from Bukoba to Mtwara or Dar es Salaam to Kigoma. A healthy and handsome young language born in Tanzania was muscular enough to kick the blushing foreign language out of its sight.
English galloped and bid itself in classrooms, books and offices and ventures out timidly, rarely, as an occasional for those who had seen 'many blackboards'.
English blushed more soon after the British had landed at Heathrow Airport and docked at Southampton Harbour, when Kiswahili was declared the National language. The real, big language coup came when Kiswahili became the official language. Things were hot for English and it slunk out of many offices trembling.
Had it not been for the importance of the handshakes in International Relations and Goodwill, and the desire to acquire science and technology, Tanzania would have promptly wrapped the language neatly in a huge package and post it to Buckingham Palace with suitable diplomatic compliments in a covering letter.
So English language was given an encouraging don't-worry-boy pat on the back, plus a furtive wink - which, English fortunately didn't see - and allowed in primary schools first as both the medium of instruction and subject but shortly after as subject only. Now Kiswahili is roaring loud and clear in primary schools from Mathematics to Geography.
From secondary schools upwards English has been given a kingly status. It is both the language of instruction and a subject. This is where the bottleneck of our language policy lies.
From primary schools the energetic young boys and girls cross over to secondary schools with all basic concepts firmly framed in technical Kiswahili. In Mathematics for example, they sing of 'kipenyo ', 'nusu-kipenyo', 'nyuzi' 'mzingo' and many other technical terms in this and other subjects.
Suddenly after toying with these words for more than five years they are confronted with strange words like radius, diameter, angle and a multitude of gibberish terms in all other subjects.
At an age when he should be consolidating concepts he learned in primary school, a secondary school student in Form I has a new task or pronouncing and conceptualizing strange terms in English language.
Before he extricates himself from this confusion, the fourth year is in and he has to sit for an examination. He walks into the examination room to fail. Mathematics, the gateway to technology, has been leading in failures - at least according to complaints from the National Examinations Council.
In fact in secondary schools, there is a tendency among students to give science and technical subjects like chemistry, physics and mathematics a wide berth because they sound so foreign even though chemistry, physics and Maths are all around him every day for twenty four hours.
Something big ought to be done in the language policy of our educational institutions if we want to manufacture our own Tanzanian made chemicals for making rocks change into water or a hydromagnate which, when placed on the ground, can make underground water come to the surface.
Other countries are leaping forward in technology because there are no two colours in the language used in their educational system.
The up-rooting and replanting of the English language tree naturally stopped the growth of deep roots. This is glaringly evident around us. A kindergarten kid can easily count the number of Tanzanian authors of English books. But for other countries especially in West Africa you need an electronic calculator to take stock of them all.
In offices, because of little knowledge of English language, typists and Personal Secretaries have hard time typing English manuscripts from their bosses.
A typist coming across the <-_world><+_word> 'udder' will raise her eyebrows and swear that her boss had a hangover and colds when he wrote the strange word. She puts it down as a misspelling and types instead the familiar word under, and leave the mutilated context to take care of itself.
Popular words which send bosses banging their desks angrily are: Forfeit which is typed four feet, sash-window into cash-window, glove into save, falter into fatter. These two words: THEN and THAN are used inter-changeably. If a boss is not careful in checking the typed text and simply signs and jumps into his Pajero the letter goes with an unclear message and creates a poor impression. Saying what you want to say clearly is one of the great human virtues.
A common penchant for emblazoned T-shirts confirms the suspicion that those who put them on hardly know the meaning of many of the roguish, pugnacious and hippy-like inscriptions on the T-shirts.
Not so long ago, it used to be fashionable for bedsheets, pillow-cases and even table-cloths to be embroidered with slogans. The theme was usually love, and here again fine-fingered ladies who wanted to impress their spouses, held their needles and looped their threads expertly, only to puncture English.
On the speech platform, no one really ever needs English for interaction, except of course, for government business across the border.
Only an insignificant number of people whose business - legal, illegal and immoral - makes them brush shoulders with foreigners, have the need to commit to memory key words and phrases related to their dealings.
A prostitute who is approached by a sun-tanned long-nosed client, needs more naked words than: "all night, twenty dollars; quick and go, five." The rest of the business is rounded off with broad, lip-sticked smiles and a series of hesitant yes, yes, yes, me? No, no, me young girl. (However, some prostitutes speak Hyde Park or Harlem English). A black-market currency dealer has a stock of currency exchange terms. "Hey, mister, four-hundred for a dollar. "OK?"
Musicians, DJ's and English music fans like to sing - once in a while - in English just to show that they aren't very far, as some people think, from Michael Jacksons and Lionel Richies. And in this music and disco field, it is strictly American English which is bantulized into microphones, exaggerated in the amplifiers, and bawled off loudspeakers.
The government, trying to balance its language policy, was worried at the sinking level of English language use and its slipping foot-hold. Poor mastery of an international language can cause considerable embarrassment.
Because of poor language, a Tanzanian delegate to an international conference on, say, "Men's Full Participation in Family Life" would stand up and outline a successful campaign in Tanzania in making men realize their family responsibilities.
The delegate, nicely turned out in three-piece suit might say: "We in Tanzania have succeeded to put many men in the family way." And he will go on to thank the ruling Party. "It is because of the unique power of CCM that the men are now in that way." Then every delegate, shocked, will begin to wonder what has happened to English language in Tanzania.
That is why the government asked Britain to come quickly and give the anaemic English a blood transfusion. In a special project called ELSP - English Language Support Project - British and Tanzanian experts are joining hands to put new life into English by distributing books, organizing seminars on the teaching of English and encouraging students to speak and write more English
The project is in its fourth year now and good results are expected in the classrooms, in the performance of National Examinations and outside school life. But still, the Kiswahili gale is gathering more speed and it is doubtful whether the ship being so expertly repaired will not be pounded again on its voyage by the linguistic gale.
In any case, we thank Sir English for making us know and speak about what is going on in the laboratories and workshops of science and technology, on the platforms of politics and on the graphs of economics. Sorry for misspelling you and at times twisting you painfully; you see, our pens are always being swayed by a powerful whirl-wind, your friend, Ndugu Kiswahili.
And to you Ndugu Kiswahili sticking out your broad chest so proudly, we ask: Until when will you allow your guest citizen to help you instruct your children in secondary schools, colleges and universities? When will you storm into the classrooms and lecture halls to be the medium of instruction? You are now articulate enough, aren't you?...
The perils and pleasures of writing
"Who is Tetyo B. Marya?" Someone stormed into the Weekend editorial room and demanded to know.. "Is he here?" (By the way, former Miss Saturday 6/7/91. Were you at the reception? I was.
Well then, the person who called at the office was informed that Tetyo Marya had neither a chair nor a desk in the office, nor was he a resident of Dar es Salaam. The person was given a Moshi address to write to Tetyo. But he never wrote. I wonder whether he wanted to tell me something or 'till' me - kunilima. It can be serious. I must start putting on T-shirts now because I don't want to be held by the collar!
These are the perils of writing. always in writing. a writer is likely to ruffle someone's feathers, and the offended would vow to dry the ink out of your bloody pen. Like the woman I met in Moshi who knew that I am using the pen-name of Tetyo Marya.
"Mr. Masera," she said to me, arming her tongue with nuclear missiles, "exactly what do you mean when you say that women dress in order to harass men? Do you remember the Siame-at-TANESCO case? Tell me, who harassed the other?"
I immediately remembered the Sexual Harassment harangue which my obedient typewriter rolled off in January. The <-_women><+_woman> wanted me to defend myself. I told her in Jest that it was Siame who was harassed and had to defend himself with his 'sime'.
Siame using sime! It could have been put into a poem, but for the <-_victims><+_victim's> dignity. One wonders whether the woman assaulted at Tanesco <-_victims><+_victim's>. will ever forget the electrifying experience at the electricity house.
I gave the woman who cornered me an example. A man is carrying two million shillings in a, say, transparent Marlboro bag.
If he is pounced upon by a calculating thug and the money disappears round Mkwepu Street, while people <-_dast><+_dash> to nab the robber, there will be whispers of carelessness on the part of the man. There is a known way of hauling money across the streets, not like carrying an ice-cream cone to a waiting girl in a car.
And I thought, but it appears I am wrong, that there is a way women should carry their bodies so that the men may <-_cress><+_cross> the streets safely - that is, men's eyes should calculate the speed of the oncoming vehicles. The mini- siketis and see-throughs do attract more attention than a speeding One -Ten. Always with women, fashion overrides sense.
The <-_women><+_woman> who accosted me wasn't convinced and she told me to stop writing "stupid things about women" OK, I shall stop writing about women and I shall start er... doing what with women? could someone advise please?
But the truth is, I just can't stop writing. Writing is a strange, incurable disease. It is to me, a literary AIDS. Once the virus has attacked my pen, I am finished.
I find myself writing when I should be belching at the bar counter and telling the bar man that this is the sixth day I haven't seen the tall, slim bar maid from Kondoa. I find myself typing the night away when I should be snoring in my bed.
I can't remember how I lived before I dived into this tricky pond of pleasure and leisure -writing. Tricky because no one ever asked me to write. It is like a zealous business man who puts up a butchery in Mecca and sells pork! You can never, however strong-willed you are, resist the urge to write.
There is always a pregnancy in your brain which must be delivered on paper. You must deliver it, or you can't sleep. Sorry for the slight vulgarity in using maternity terms, but I think you have bagged the idea.
W2B003T
Rosa Mistika revisited with a gender perspective
THE Swahili novel, beginning from its very inception in the first half of this century, has toed the line of world tradition - stereotyping the woman as the 'victim' of man in his many exploits, ranging from love and sex, to prejudice, <-_phillistinism><+_philistinism> and sadism. The woman has been portrayed in the unenviable position of being the docile recipient of man's manifestations of emotional and physical release.
Sometimes this docility has been interpreted as or even transformed (by the writers) to be the natural state and place of the "fair sex". The unfairness and abnormality of this phenomenon has passed either unnoticed or been deliberately ignored. But the advent of feminism and the subsequent introduction of gender studies in institutions of learning has drastically altered the picture. Gender sensitivity has literally engulfed every <-_face><+_phase> of our life; be it in the classroom or in politics or in daily social intercourse.
The ramifications of this 'gender sensitiveness' are many and far reaching. The thesis of this paper is this: that gender sensitivity (or over-sensitivity)has so overwhelmed us by its revolutionary rhetoric and practice that, instead of seeing more in the ability of women to face her world, we have actually seemed to see less. Our vision has been blinded by the brilliant rays of the new days. For instance, any novel that does not praise the woman directly as the equal of the man, is a reactionary work of art.
I would like, at the outset, to exclude the pornographic novels that populate the streets of Dar es Salaam from any examination of the Swahili novel. These works <-/offiction>, are modelled after what western scholarship calls "popular literature". But a more appropriate name for what we have in Tanzania, would be "street literature" thus emphasizing both the psychology of its production and the nests of its actors and consumers.
By over-exposing and overemphasizing the lust and nakedness of their heroes and heroines (if such they can be called) the writers have transgressed against good literary sense that could have made the novels stand the test of time. Instead, they have ministered to the superficial and transient fancies of a negligible segment of the urban population. Literature as one writer once said, is writing which society will not willingly let die. <-_Consequentially><+_Consequently> novels such as Shemeji kula, Dada yuko kazini and others in similar vein fall short of the intent of serious literature.
In line with this proposition I would like to make an inept examination of one Swahili novel which has become a classic of contemporary fiction in Tanzania. It is Kezilahabi's Rosa Mistika. Our purpose is to show that in addition to portraying women as victims of conservative traditions and customs authored by men in the latter's favour, the novel shows the moral and spiritual superiority of women over men. It is therefore simplistic to argue that Rosa Mistika is a victim per se of the environment in which she operates. It would be more prudent and fruitful to see her reaction to "victimization" and the hands of a phallic world as <-_representating><+_representing> the germ of a rebellion against an unjust order. Let us see how this works in the novel. Rosa Mistika, in the novel that takes after her name, is a girl "more sinned against than sinning". At least that is what she believes even as she commits the most shameful of moral "transgressions".
The novel, Rosa Mistika, opens with a poignant depiction of the cruel rule of phallic power. Zakaria, the father is a <-_vainglori-joker><+_vainglorious joker> as well as a child abuser, by contemporary social morality. On top of it all, he is a wife-beater. Zakaria is the embodiment of all that modern sensibility, with its hypocritical obsession with equality and justice, abhors.
As the novel opens, we see him manhandling Rose, beating her until she bleeds and dangling her by her throat until she nearly chokes to death. Reason? She has received a love letter from a boy in her class. As it turns out, it is more of a well-wisher than a love letter. But for Zakaria, there is no difference. All his daughters - Rose, Stella, Honorata, Sperantia and Flora - live in mortal fear of the man. So does their mother. And "Maji-Machafu", as Zakaria is nick-named in the village, brags incessantly for being able to keep his daughters in "their place".
Our interest in this paper is not so much in the cruelty and sadism of this drunken parent, but in the psychological formation which it engenders in his five daughters, specifically the eldest, Rosa.
Zakaria's inhumanity is not to be taken for granted. The narrator belabours and editorializes on Zakaria's character with relentless fury. At one stage, within a space of three pages the novel comments on the man's cruelty no less than three times.
:
"Rosa's bedsheet was taken away from her. Her underpants saved her but her breasts were exposed.
Woo betide those who will eye the breasts of their daughters!)
Then, referring to the neighbours who had gathered to witness Zakaria's vengeful cruelty on his daughter, the narrator tells us:
"
(Dressed in their white bed sheets, they looked like angels who'd been sent down to witness the cruelty which was being perpetrated not only between two human beings, but also between a father and his daughter)
Here humanity's dignity has been violated. Both the sinner and the sinned against suffer an ignominious shame when the sanctity of a daughter's privacy is ravished.
Finally, the narrator closes this dramatic scene with devastating irony:
"
(PEACE ON EARTH FOR THOSE WHO BRING UP THEIR CHILDREN WELL)
The fact that Zakaria has cut off his daughters from the real world of men and "evil" makes glow with satisfaction. He hopes to marry them off without difficulty when time comes. Unfortunately, his sacred separation of the two worlds is 'violated' when Regina, his wife, makes a whole drum of local brew and invites the neighbours to buy it. She would like to raise school fees for and must go to Rosary Secondary School. Her drunken husband has stolen and spent on drink all the money set aside for the purpose.
The world that comes to Zakaria's house opens the eyes of the girls on how men behave when drunk. Their bawdy jokes, their staggerings, their urinating all over the grounds shock the girls. But underneath their skin of filial loyalty and imprisonment, vibrations of excitement for the other sex begin to be felt.
Later, at Rosary Boarding School, these vibrations reach fever-pitch in Rose as she dances with a man for the first time in her life. That night she has a nightmare, a prophetic nightmare.
(After sometime, sleep overtook her. She saw her father walking a dog on the road. The dog was under leash. This dog saw a goat. He (the dog) instantly wrestled himself free and ran off. He tore up the goat into pieces).
This is a significant passage in the irreversible journey which our heroine embarks upon. Like the dog in the dream, she psychologically frees herself from her father's 'zoo' and flees into the untried world of men and sex - a lot of sex. Like the dog in the dream, she'll devour men without mercy - for them, for herself and for destiny!
Rose, once a naive lass who kisses Thereza, her girl friend, to try and quench the rising fire in her loins, learns the tricks of boy-girl-relationships with speed and vengeance. The novice quickly metamorphoses into a teacher of love and love-making. Listen to her talk to her friend Thereza.: ...
(Nowadays I play with the boys as one driving a donkey. Pull the rope on the right side, and the donkey turns to the right. Pull to the left and the donkey does likewise. The donkey does not know where it is going, only the driver does ... Those boys do not know what their end will be). The last line, as we shall soon see, fits her own destiny perfectly. Rosa Mistika is as merciless and reckless in dealing with boys as her father was his 'zoo' of girls. Clearly, there is a strain of vengeance in these words which, in a very real sense, tries to decentre or recentre the locus of traditional order. Imaginatively, and perhaps inadvertently, Rosa Mistika tries not only to satisfy a sexual yearning but also to reduce the authority which tradition has conferred on the phallus.
The fallacy of phallic power
While at Morogoro Teachers' College, Rosa continues her "revolution" by defying the rules of the game - the game of love making. She'll not sleep with one boy - as the boys would want it to be - but with all and sundry. Her thighs are open for whoever comes along. The boys baptize her as "The Lab" where every sexual trick can be tried. Rosa becomes doubly defiant, openly violating the rules set by a phallic world. Even when a padre comes to try and "save her soul", she rudely gives him his marching orders. "Lucifer has made your soul his seat," the priest laments as he walks out of her room, clutching his Bible under his armpit.
Her 'career' in seduction reaches its highest point when she secures a rendezvous with the principal of the college. In this highly romantic scene, the novelist shows the power and confidence which Rosa has attained.
Throughout, the principal, Mr. Thomas, is grovelling at the feet or arms of his student. Throughout, Rose keeps "her cool" while Thomas frantically darts around like a kid. The power of the underdog is here clearly demonstrated. Rose manages to transgress against two authority figures: leadership and traditional phallic authority.
The principal is vanquished as a 'role model' and a man. The girl taunts him, tantalizes him, teaches him, and finally rewards him. The chief administrator of a big institution is reduced to a gaping student of Cupid. The novelist sums up his state as follows:
(At this stage Thomas did not know where he was. He was finished. He blurted out many things. He swore that Rosa would never be dismissed from school. Rosa felt triumphant ... that night Thomas was like a chick under mother-hens wing. He was coddled and would not hear anything again. Even if someone walked on the roof, Thomas would not hear).
Such, then, is the physical triumph of Rosa Mistika. She has reduced men to dust and, vengefully, she treads on them! But all these adventures are only a psychological preparation for the final battle against male dominance; the supreme dominance of her father.
Drunk whit the success which she has had with men in her travels; convinced of the 'superficiality' of male strength, she returns home and openly parades her latest "victim" - the District Commissioner for Ukerewe. Zakaria, still living in his old world of unchallenged authority, rebukes <-_her><+_his> daughter and, characteristic of him, tries to chase away the DC. This is the last straw that breaks the camel's back. Rose walks up to her father and gives him a piece of her mind, something she has wanted to do for a long time, the author informs us. She shouts:
"
(You keep us under your thumb all the time. Do you think you will marry us?)
Then the author graphically describes the appearance of another victim of Rosa Mistika's fury. It is a pathetic Zakaria who stands stunned in front of his family and guest:
(Those words pierced Zakaria's heart. He stood there for a while, unable to utter a word. Rosa walked up and down with pride, her shoulders raised. She had won.
In front of her, this giant of a man she had vanquished stood still, bloodless. His blood has
d coagulated.)
Transfixed to the spot, unable to fathom or comprehend the genesis of intent of this fury, Zakaria can only manage to stammer:
(Rosa, from today, you are not my child)
To which Rosa instantly retorts:
From today, you are not my father).
The fallacy of phallic power and the legitimacy of parental tyranny have been exposed and challenged. The relationships between fathers and daughters will never be the same after Rosa Mistika. A new tradition is born, thanks to the combined 'sins' of Rosa and her father. For both have sinned.
Rosa disowned as daughter, and rejected in love, subsequently commits suicide; the father is speared to death; while Regina dies from shock.
When the three members of this tragic family lie dead at the end of the novel our hearts bleed for the innocent wife and mother. Throughout the novel, Regina has been portrayed as the docile wife and loving mother.
Only once does she lift her tongue to contradict her husband, even then mildly. And only after she has given birth to a son, thus breaking the monotonous and, according to tradition, unwanted string of female children. Five of them!
W2B004T
'If music be the food of life, play on'
This week our music affairs correspondent Masoud Masoud explores another aspect of African music. He outlines <-_it's><+_its> traditional significance and its melodic content, as it forges ahead to challenge <-_it's><+_its> western counterparts towards the twentieth century.
TO say that music is part of life in Africa is an understatement. In many African cultures music has a greater significance than human life. It is often believed to have predated the existence of man and remains the main conduit for <-/commiunications> with the gods, it certainly pre-dates history. Even the young pop <-_musicians><+_musician> who has never played traditional music and likes to dance to American soul, funk or hip-hop carries a <-/wheight> of cultural baggage, memories from the collective sub-<-/concious> and the <-/concious> expression of his people, and understanding music's potential, will be part of the load. In that baggage, the African musician has a complete survival kit, a fund of forms and contents, but it is also a burden to be carried through life. From the African perspective music is <-/doubtlessly> heavy with lots and lots of meaning.
Music as a language
Music was probably a language some time before words had literal meanings. Music is so much a part of mortal life <-_than><+_that> no major African language has a word for music in general, and the various forms it takes.
There are countless words for indigenous musical styles, dances and songs most of which either describe the music's function, the instrument it is played on, or the <-/occassion> on which it is used. But for most purposes the catch-all European word 'music' (musique, muziki) is now used throughout the African continent.
Africa is a land of languages. There are at least 2,000 ethnic sub-groups speaking as many dialects of the main language families. Their customs, traditions and beliefs vary widely, despite similarities in the way of life and social organisations across the continent. The main language groups are the Bantu speaking people of the Central and Southern Africa, the Nilo-Sahara north-eastern region, and the Niger Congo language speakers of West Africa.
Within these, whole nations of inter-related peoples have developed and several empires have been established by the major 'tribes' whose names should be on every school child's roll call of African dynasties, including the Kingdom of the Ashantis, the Manding Kingdom and the Zulu Nation.
And if one could afford a little patriotism, then he can't help having at least heard the Milambo, Mkwawa, Marealle, Sina, Majebelle, Kinjeketile and the Ruhunda dynasties on mainland Tanzania. Each sub-group, 'tribe' or clan of the main groups has <-_it's><+_its> own music, most of which has a specific function in the community.
This applies not only to 'folklore' or 'cultural' music but also to transitional, modernised variants and outright commercial dance music.
The original instrument
The voice is the original music instrument and it is no <-/concidence> that singing is still the most important feature in almost all forms of popular music, but the human body was also adaptable as a hand-clapping, leg-slapping, and 'human beat-box' instrument thousands of years before being taken up by the 20th century hip-hoppers.
With the beginnings of language came the lyric, crucial to most traditional music where the message is usually served by the medium. Within small ethnic sub-groups traditions are preserved through the continuity of music, but songs that are handed down are prone to changes in content and interpretation. In popular music designed to reach <-/otside> a small community, songs must still be relevant to the primary audience.
Topicality, poetic or oratorial elegance and wit are the essential ingredients and hall-mark talents for the social commentator. But the measure of success for a popular musician is being accepted and enjoyed by people who at times don't necessarily understand the message.
And no matter what the language, African listeners have an ear for music; wasn't it William Shakespeare again who said 'Music itself is an international language'?
The vocal construction
An important vocal construction is the call-and-response singing, a pattern common to most types of African music and even Black music in the West. This form of musical dialogue usually consists of a short phrase from the lead voice or instrument answered by the chorus or other instruments and so it progresses, exchanging words or musical phrases in a kind of short-hand abstract conversation, although literal meaning is never far away.
Even purely instrumental African music sometimes has a narrative story-line behind it. In Tanzania, with the Nyamwezi (My own tribe), for example, certain xylophone tunes have unspoken lyrics which must be learned in order to play the pieces properly.
And in contemporary African pop, bass and guitar lines usually follow the melodic pattern of the songs.
Melody has often been identified by musicologists as less important in African music than rhythm and harmony, but the interplay and 'impersonation' between melody and rhythm is one of African music's powerful fascinations.
Melodic instruments and vocal lines are as dependent on rhythm pulse as the so called rhythm or percussion which invariably manage to create a kind of <-/parralel> melody of their own. In contemporary pop, the song content does not always dictate the form of the music.
For example, unlike the Swahili language, the important music language of Lingala, is so tonal but accents are often bent in favour of a tuneful line, which may be stretched with added syllables to fit the melody.
Some languages are so tonal that the sequence of notes played on certain instruments can have a literal meaning.
An obvious example is the talking drum, but even guitar and saxophone phrases have been 'interpreted' by music fanatics as subtle threats, insults or veiled warnings to rival musicians. When the African's love of word-play is taken into account these meanings can be stretched indefinitely.
Making witty, topical puns with secret, 'in-crowd' significance can be fun enough with words; when sounds are used the scope is even greater. And it is this scope and level that has encompassed the African with music for each aspect of his life.
In short for an African, as Shakespeare says, music is the food of life, so we might as well keep playing on.
The use of language in music
The quest for the meaning of various aspects of African music has taken centre stage for many Africanists from the humanities to social sciences. In this specific field of study, ethnomusicology, new trends of inquiry focus on the interplay of various elements in music creativity. Our music affairs correspondent Masoud Masoud explains why language plays a significant role in its organisation.
CONTRARY to what many people earlier believed, language is of paramount importance to any given music form. One of its prime objectives is to reveal the meaning of a musical practice by looking at the extent to which the cultural fabric is reflected in the creative music process of a given community.
This implies an improvisational creative process in music, which in African art, is an attainment in itself.
It exists as a process of fulfillment during the creation, and ceases to exists in its completion. This <-/phenomenom> is found in a variety of African music cultures.
Distinctions
Nevertheless, distinctions should be made between each category of musical composition. A different set of forms and norms, for example, may apply to compositions that have a social or religious context, and where the ritual demands more <-/rigourous> and <-/faithfull> reproduction.
In this case, a musical composition or dance exists in perpetuity, and does not necessarily become a past referential frame work for a new creative experience.
In spite of the large amount of professional literature in the West, devoted to explaining the nature of African music, its meaning and governing principle continue to challenge casual contemporary music scholars.
Westerners have preferred to simplify it by <-/assesing> the art itself outside the cultural context, and refuse to accept that the creative process of African music is governed by principles different from those prevailing in Europe or America.
In this article, I put forward two propositions: First, that the creative process in African vocal music is contained in different levels of <-_it's><+_its> languages in the New World which has rendered the basic music elements vulnerable to modification or replacement by others based on different principles of organisation.
In other words, the creative process is culturally defined, inspired by a variety of practices peculiar to a particular ethnic group.
Well, to anyone not well-versed in technical music construction, this may sound a little too cumbersome or perhaps academically esoteric.
To understand this concept, I think it is appropriate that I give you a detailed linguistic analysis to this realisation.
Why language is so crucial
An examination of vocal music in Africa reveals that language <-_play><+_plays> a pivotal role in its structurization. Language is a vehicle par excellence for conveying the African philosophy of existence which simply goes thus: "I belong, therefore I am", which is crucial to the understanding of the creative process involved.
Tonal inflections play a vital role in the process of melodic construction. African languages are predominantly tonal, though some aren't as tonal as others. In that, the meaning of each word is determined by the pattern of <-_it's><+_its> tonal inflections.
Take for example the two sets of words; mo'ko'lo and moko'lo in Lingala or bara'bara! and barabara in our very own Swahili language.
Both of these sets of words have the same spelling and only differ from each other when various tonal levels are applied to their syllables.
Semantically, the first Lingala word means 'a day', while the second means 'an elder', similarly the first Swahili word is an exclamation 'exactly!', while the second simply means 'a road' or 'a path'.
The use of any other tonal sequence changes the meaning of the words or renders them meaningless. Clearly, tonal inflections play a vital role in the process of melodic construction.
To maintain meaning, the basic melodic patterns should have directions, but not necessarily should have specific sizes of their intervals.
They must comply with the tonal requirements of each word. The final melodic contour is left to the creativity of the composer who determines the range of the intervals.
<-/Parrallel> harmony
When the <-_directions><+_direction> of the intervals in a melodic process is governed by the rules of the language, it follows that this must apply to all vocal lines being sung simultaneously on different pitch levels, the result is parallel harmony, something very common in African vocal tradition.
Until recently, most non-Africans misunderstood the logic of this, choosing instead to characterise African <-/parrallel> harmony as the equivalent of the embryonic phase in the evolution of Western harmony.
In fact, while <-/parrallel> harmony is found in most cultures, each ethnic group has its own distinctive style. Each is unique because it is ethnically and linguistically defined.
The organisation of African rhythms is governed by different principles, most of which are linguistically derived. In vocal music, like the East African 'Taarab' for instance, the poetical rhythm is important.
In words with more than just one syllable in African languages, the stress is often placed on the syllables preceding a semi-consonant (l, m, n, s, w, y).
Thus, for example, with the Swahili language verb 'kupenda', to love, the stress is placed on the second syllable 'pe' which is elongated, as a result of the anticipated <-/pronounciation> of the third syllable 'nda'.
This feature is obviously reflected in vocal music although the overall melodic rhythm is left to the <-_composers><+_composer's> artistic discretion.
The impact of the language is felt as well in the instrumental rhythmic structures.
Often, a phrase or series of 'non-sense' syllables is formulated to an instrumental rhythmic pattern known as the time-line pattern, serving as a memory and teaching aid.
In a composition, these time-line patterns function as a measuring stick for musical phrases.
Each individual pattern may appear simple but the difficulty in understanding the final rhythmic tapestry of the piece stems from the relationship created by their combinations.
This interlocking relationship results in a melodic formula; a section of the composition in which all time-line patterns are recycled, before reaching a new starting point. This aspect is called the 'Ensemble Thematic Cycle' in music study.
Although an ensemble thematic cycle is rhythmically conceived, it also engenders the melodic and harmonic dimensions of the compositions.
In a properly <-/fullfilled> cycle, the relationship of time-line patterns, as rendered by differently pitched percussive instruments, produces well-defined melodic lines and tapestry of harmonic sound.
This level of creativity is not easy to define. In Africa, the point is illustrated by a musician's ability to explain 'why' but not 'how' he composes, as is the case in Europe or America.
W2B005T
Fela Kuti: Music is his weapon in a war against his government
In most African socialistic regimes, the use of music in indoctrination and political expression has been more common the medium's as an instrument of dissent against oppressive establishments. Basing on notes he has compiled from various sources, Correspondent Masoud Masoud profiles controversial Nigerian musician Fela Ramson Anikulapo Kuti, who has used music to challenge the power-that-be.
FELA Ramson Anikulapo Kuti is a most iconoclastic and provocative of performers, known throughout the continent of Africa as much for his political and social activities as for his big-band music.
Over quarter a century, Fela has orchestrated a one-man war campaign against his own government. Alone among the giants of African music, Fela Kuti has always made use of his time in the spotlight to amplify the radical views he espouses.
Unlike other African superstars, Fela has always made his compositions confrontational, dealing with injustice, corruption and brutality.
Pidgin English
His use of pidgin English has made his songs accessible to a wider international audience, while his crusade on behalf of the 'ordinary' Africans has given him heroic status among Blacks throughout the world.
As an innovator of Afro-beat in the late '60s, Fela has established a popular base.
He was a musical pioneer, inventor of the big-band sound which incorporated massed saxophones and trumpets, and choral arrangements based on call and response patterns.
Then there was the pulsating dance rhythm and stinging anti-establishment lyrics.
Fela has seen much of the African dilemma, from colonialism through independence, civil war, and bureaucratic corruption to military coups.
And these are subjects about which he has sung since the early '70s.
With Fela's music age, most modern-day Tanzanian youth won't be able to recall the mighty big-band sound or the fiery rhetoric behind his driving Afro vibes. But for the most up-dated ones, songs like African Woman and Shakara won't be hard to recall.
Between the lines
In 1986, Fela was released from the notorious Kirikiri prison after serving part of a five-year sentence imposed on him for allegedly trying to export some US $1,600 while on his way to play in America.
Once free, he caused an uproar by claiming that the trial judge had apologised to him for having imposed a politically motivated sentence.
At a post-release press conference, the ever-provocative Fela announced he would be running for presidency when free elections were held.
Espousing a doctrine of African 'Humanism', he outlined his method of defeating militarism. He was once quoted as saying: "Give everyone a weapon and a rank, then everyone is a soldier."
While he was in prison, the Egypt 80 band had been kept ticking over by his son Femi, who also plays saxophone like a reflection of his father.
Understandably Femi was both proud and resentful of the association and strove to create a personal expression of Afro-beat. As a result of this, he easily found an appreciable audience in France.
During the enforced lull in Fela's career, it was refreshing to hear a burst <-_or><+_of> crisp Afrobeat coming from all different sources.
For all the sympathy and outrage expressed for Fela in his time of detention, his music had lost <-_it's><+_its> percussive edge during the mid 80s.
And it was not just his injuries that had weakened his music, part of the problem was that Fela did not have Tony Allen drumming for him anymore.
Allen, a very energetic perfectionist, with an output that is almost prolific, had opted to record his own work in London and in the process left Fela high and dry.
Fela was born in Abeokuta, Nigeria in 1938, to a well respected Yomba family. His father, The Reverend I. O. Ransome Kuti, was a composer and influential preacher, like his father before him who had been a pioneer of the Yomba Christian Church.
His mother Fummilayu, was a key figure in the nationalistic struggle. A confidante of Kwame Nkrumah, she met Mao Tse Tung in China and won a Lenin Peace Prize.
Both Fela's family were anti-colonial, but Fela became even more so.
A rebel from an early age, Fela refused to study law or medicine like his brothers, one of <-_who><+_whom>, Olikoye, went to become Minister of Health in Babangida's government.
High-life jazz
He later made his way to Trinity College of Music in London, where he studied composition and trumpet. After four years in London, he returned to Nigeria and formed his first group, Koola Lobitos.
Playing a modern form of high-life jazz, Fela and the band began to carve their name in both Nigeria and Ghana. Then in 1966, inspired by the soul flavoured music of Sierra Leonean Geraldo Pino, he started to evolve his own Afro-beat style.
With the help of the master-kit drummer Tony Allen, Fela was able to synchronize a new dance music which could match James Brown's rhythmic intensity and organisation, while remaining totally African.
With his band Africa 70, Fela reflected the mood of the times. His was an African version of Black Power, and throughout the 70s he projected a volatile mix of heavy Afro-beat music and stark pidgin rhythm with confrontational politics and the blatant use of Marijuana.
Often his personal life was outrageous as his polemical songs. His polygamous nature inspired the celebrated marriage to 27 women in 1978, however, he later modified his hard-line sexism to agree that women had a right to control their own bodies.
A cumbersome 'bed'
His notoriety guarantied him full houses in Europe and America, with healthy record sales to match up.
Alone among African musicians, he had an international record contract which ensured a world market for his music and <-/everytime> he toured, he had been courted by the media.
In Nigeria, however, Fela has 'made his own bed' and it has proved extremely uncomfortable. His particular target have been military governments and they have never been slow to respond.
Undoubtedly the worst incident was the storming of the KalaKuta republic, his fortified compound in Lagos, which was invaded by several hundred soldiers, who beat Fela, his wives and musicians and threw his 71-year-old mother from an upstairs window, causing injuries from which she died a few weeks later.
Fela himself suffered injuries which later affected his capability on trumpet and saxophone, from the heydays of the early 70s when he released seventeen albums in three years.
Fela's output slowed down, with new releases coming every few years rather than months.
Of late he was insisting that Afro-beat was over. That it was insulting to consider his music as mainly for dancing, it was African 'classical' music and people were not expected to dance until they had listened to his lyrics.
Tribal traditions join 'endangered species' list
ONE social scientist and philosopher at the turn of 14th century advanced a theory saying: "If you want to tame a people and then rule colonise them effectively, then you must destroy its culture first and replace it with your own. I have in mind the two basic ingredients of culture - religion and language."
How true is this theory for Africa?
History is witness to this statement. But that is history. What should cause concern is the fast disappearing "remains" of cultural traditions of the African peoples, more so in Tanzania. The demise of our culture is accelerated by science and technology which is day by day reducing the size of our global village.
One may dare say that what has come to be known as "the new phenomenon of Islamic fundamentalism" may in the final analysis be narrowed down to a "cultural protest" where a people are up in arms to protect their culture and tradition at any cost.
But is it possible for one community or a nation to protect its culture in the face of the onslaught of modern mass communication of the likes of television, video and the print media? Hard to say. But the <-/Isrealites> (Jews), Chinese and Japanese say they have managed to contain foreign cultures, and influences.
Culture is too wide a subject to be fully covered in one newspaper article. Yet is it prudent to talk of Tanzanian culture where the society is moulded out of 120 tribes and heavily influenced by Middle Eastern (Persian and Arabic) cultures and those of the <-_crient><+_orient>? Hard to say again.
The controversial mini-skirt is back - and in full swing. In the early 60s the mini-skirt was banned in Tanzania. Reason assigned by government was "to curb encroaching foreign cultural influences." Of late there were rumblings of government officials in Zanzibar that tourists must dress up properly. They again assign reasons of "protecting the Zanzibari culture." Simply said a choice between protection of Zanzibari culture and tourism development.
I believe in today's world in Tanzania we should be talking of preserving the distinct tribal or ethnic cultures rather than the general and ambiguous "protection of Tanzanian culture."
Similarly, and for the sake of argument, does it make sense to talk of "protecting Tanzanian youth against, say, American cultural influences?" We should not lose sight of the fact that the American society is made up of various <-_culture><+_cultures> - English or Irish stock, German, Chinese, African, Red Indian etc.
Concern of fast disappearing tribal or ethnic cultural traditions can be exemplified by change of gastronomy and fast fading "song and dance" among the Nyakyusa peoples of southern Tanzania. Look at the following personal example:
Roy and Lee are my elder children born in Lusaka and Chingola respectively. They grew up in Dar es Salaam. They were thus exposed to a wide range of cultures. Although both of their parents (my wife and I) are Nyakyusa, the youths have never seen or heard (leave alone eaten) of Ikifuge - a delicious mashed sweet-potato cooked with beans. But they are well <-/acquinted> with meat pie and hot <-_dods><+_dogs>! Hardly a parents' fault one may dare say.
In olden days a Nyakyusa house wife could concoct a variety of several dishes out of maize. From green maize out came Ikisujwa - a kind of refined porridge made out of ground and sieved green maize, Kisyesye - a form of bread made cooked from pounded green maize, - green maize cooked with beans or raw groundnuts stiff porridge made from flour of dried and pounded green maize.
Similarly, one could concoct five different types of food-stuffs out of green bananas. Traditional gastronomy, an important cultural aspect of a people, is fading fast amongst the tribes of Tanzania. Is it a blessing in disguise whereby indigenous tribal gastronomy will slowly evolve into national dishes of the likes of the Chagga's ndafu, supu and mtori? Yes, this is challenge to other tribes in Tanzania to popularise their dishes too.
On a similar note, Roy and Lee are experts at dancing Reggae, Ragamuffin and Kwasakwasa. But they have never seen or danced Ikimele, Kibota or Magosi once popular Nyakyusa tunes of the youth. As late as the Seventies imipalano (weekend ngoma competitions) , Isyobela, Kitumbwike and the famous, graceful Ipenenga took place almost monthly. When <-_Nyakyusa's><+_Nyakyusas> have had their drink kimpumu or mchujo - they like to sing. Usually they recite mind teasing Nyakyusa poetry called akapote.
Unfortunately the songs and dances, and kapote of the <-_Nyakyusa's><+_Nyakyusas> have been replaced by kwasakwasa, south African musical beats and Ragamuffin. More so amongst the youth. Maybe a reflection of the 'generation gap war'. In a few years to come these Nyakyusa traditions remain as folklore only among the future generations if they are lucky to be recorded and preserved. This is an open challenge to writers, artists, publishers and politicians. Again, maybe the Bagamoyo College of Arts can take up this challenge.
The Tanzanian tribal traditions and culture have indeed become endangered species".
A CITES like agreement is urgently required in place for the culture and traditions of Tanzanian tribes. Time has come to come down to the reality. <-_Lets><+_Let's> face it, there is no Tanzanian culture. What we have are tribal cultures which are disappearing rapidly.
W2B006T
Fashion, rhythm, lyrics and style - the Zairean way
Music Bag
There are four common tying bonds in Zaire musicians - the system of the lyric, <-/rythm>, fashion and the dancing styles. A new style of dancing appears every year which in turn, attracts both Tanzania musicians and pirates.
These styles have <-/sideslined> Tanzanian music in most of the entertainment joints - discos, night clubs, boogies and even our radio stations. Wherever you go it is loaded with Zaire music. Whether you listen to a live local band, it must be mixed with some lingala words, which according to their fans, make bands lively.
A disco with no latest Lingala, is not a complete disco, a year without one popular Zairean or Congolese musician touring the country for concert, is a waste for bolingo enthusiasts.
Many local bands frequently pirate Lingala numbers during their live performances, copying Zaireans, doesn't matter to them whether they underscore or not. Some even go beyond and copying how they shave hair and put on high waisted big trousers - currently known as "Ebola" - with the theme of attracting patrons.
"We find it tough to compete with Zaireans when it comes to music", says a Ngorongoro Heroes Band member vocalist-cum-dancer, Kassy Kasambula. Some musicians say their fans will never get satisfied if they don't play some of the favourite hits composed by Zaireans. This is more <-/luctrative> because if they don't play, they might end up <-/loosing> them.
There are two classes of music fan - those who prefer "Soukous", a fast music dance and those who prefer "Rhumba", a slow music. "Soukous" includes numbers of Soukous Stars Band, Lutchiana 100% Mobulu, Kanda Bongoman, Freddy Majunga, Koffi Olomide, Wenge Musica, Papa Wemba, Samba Mapangala et Orchestre Virunga.
"Rhumba" includes former TP OK numbers "Bomangai, Ekaba Kaba, Mamu, Mario", Madilus compositions like "Biya, Apula, Djaffer", some of the Pepe Kalle's old numbers like "Amour Sanda, Likamboa, Moyibi" and Nyboma Mwandido's compositions.
Many patrons have differing points for their preferences. Some debate it is popular in Africa and diaspora as well as in some parts of Europe precisely because of the mixed grill menu, which Zaireans offer. They never concentrate on one beat, they <-/continously> climb at the peak, create new sounds with mixing beats and create rhythm patterns from other parts of the world with their own system and language.
Music analysts say it is because <-_Zairean><+_Zaireans> take music as a career and are, therefore, serious about it, they never regard it as a hobby.
According to some music oriented promoters, it is not because our friends (Zaireans) have the best music instruments in the continent, but because of the tactic manner in which they use instruments to create unique sounds and the way they promote themselves.
It is also realistic that both Zaireans and Congolese have proved to be far ahead in the use of the new technology. Before a musician releases his album, he first carries out a thorough research by travelling from one country to another, seeking for ideas <-_on> which he can use to create his music -not in rush to make money like local artistes - Tanzanians.
Zairean's artistes have, however, earned themselves huge names through their beat but not lyrics for, indeed, majority of fans worldwide do not understand Lingala.
A Radio One disc jockey, Sunday Shomari, says local musicians never land blames on radio stations, for what they have been doing, for allegedly giving them a raw deal and seemingly favouring Zairean's numbers during Salaam's Programmes.
"What we air on both television and radio stations, are what we are requested to do by our viewers and listeners and, of course, we don't want to let them down", says Othman Njaidi - an ITV music presenter -adding that local artistes would do better if they rehearsed their songs before recording.
A country music programme hostess with <-_the> Radio One, Monica Mfumia, says <-_Tanzania><+_Tanzanian> musicians have themselves to blame: "<-_Tanzania><+_Tanzanian> radio stations deal seriously with Zaire music because of their commercial consumption."
A veteran bar owner at Ilala, George Just Because, says Lingala music features prominently and attracts <-_customer><+_customers> because "you can't run a bar without Zairean music."
It <-_would><+_will> be a long long way before Tanzanian music find <-_t> its own identity around the world. But until then the Zairean taste is here to stay.
Whitney: The artist with a double career
The ace, Whitney Houston, has been known for her success as a singer-cum-film megastar, who has won several American Music awards since she started her career in 1985.
Two years ago, her single <-/ulbum>, "I Will Always Love You", made get crowned award for the Best Pop Female <-/Vacalist>-cum-Record of the Year, which she shared with her producer, David Foster.
The album of the year in Germany, went to the Whitney's sound track to the movie, "The Bodyguard." Before that she has achieved eight trophies during America Music Awards for the single and the soundtrack.
Houston thinks everyone can dig and underscore her song - "I will Always Love You". <-_The> Whitney's Germany award was represented to her by Dolly Paton, who wrote light songs three decades ago.
The <-/singe> has been selling in Europe and diaspora, the movie track has sold uncountable copies. "The Alladin" received more Grammys before the telecast began.
At the Period of the CBS-TV Special, "A Whole New World" (Alladin's theme) won as a song of the year <-_as><+_a> prize that was taken by the composers - Alan Menken and Tim Rice.
This had given an Englishman, Rice, opportunity to thank the early brothers who got him going on America music.
Peabo Bryson and Regina Belle also won the award for The Best Pop Performance by a duo or group of singing. "A Whole World".
Koffi is cream
In the last five years, Koffi Olomide has captured the hearts and minds of Lingala music lovers all the way from Africa to Paris to Abidjan, but Olomide may not cope up with the late Franco's or even Franco's re-incarnate because of the different music styles.
Koffi's unique style of music - Tcha-Tcho - had made him win awards in Paris where he dwells. When Olomide won the coveted - "The best African Artist" - award for two consecutive years in Cote d'Ivoire in 1992 and 1993, it wasn't so much Lingala that his fans went wild over but Koffi's "tcha-tcho" style of soul music.
"It is music from the heart", Koffi said during his tour in Tanzania, 1993. Koffi taught music by himself , his taste in music ranges from Tabu Ley (his most favourite) and Abeti Masikini to Al Jarreau, Stevie Wonder and Frank Sinatra.
Koffi feels "Tcha-tcho" style is quite different from the normal Lingala beat although he admits he's inevitably been influenced by the sounds he heard during his tender age in Kinshasa, Zaire.
Coming from a family of music lovers, both his mum and dad knew the late Franco very well. Olomide was shaped in music by his older brother Jonyko, who was most influenced in music. Jonyk'o introduced his younger brother, Olomide, to most prominent Zairean musicians when he was at the age of four, many of whom were among the hottest local artists in Zaire. Koffi was never ever meant to become a musician as far as his strict father was concerned, be that as it may.
Koffi "obeyed" his father insofar, as he got his baccalaureat in mathematics before proceed- France, where he was awarded a degree in economics, he turned to be a musician.
But at the same time, he avidly indulged in studies of French poets - <-_Bauderaire><+_Baudelaire>, Lamartine and Jacques Brel. What is more, evolved quite naturally during those university years. The honey-toned crooner, Koffi, started his music career by singing other artistes' songs before he began creating compositions of his own.
Encouraged to continue singing by friends who thought he had a lovely voice (which he does) Koffi's song writing did not seriously take off until an older musician - Bobo Veron put a guitar in his hands and showed him the necessary basics of strumming a tune.
Koffi's father, Papa Charles, was a strict accountant and he hardly wanted his son to get involved in the music. Koffi told reporters in 1993 during his both tour to Kenya and Tanzania that his main motive of composing was not because of money but for public pleasure.
It was Jonyk'o who put his feet down and insisted that Koffi sing his own music and even go professional, which he did in 1978. Initially, he released only singles, most sentimental songs that weren't for dancing but rather like western countries style. They were short and sweet lyrics and soulful story lines that one sits back and listens to.
Olomide released his first LP in 1983 after completeing his college, the LP, "Ngounda" or "Exile" got the market in the western countries because of its more injection to the funky dance rhythms.
He has released several successful LPs and countless singles since "Ngounda" first came out 12 years ago. They include "Rue d'Amour, Diva, Dieu Voit Tout, Kiwuit Rive Gauche, Nobless Oblige, Papa Plus" and the most doing well in the Radio One Top Ten show - "Maggie".
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Torn between tastes and choices
While good, topical lyrics and melodic poetical repertoires highlight the Taarab audial form, <-_it's><+_its> panoramic stage craft, the audience's positive responses to the artistic fine displays, is said to be the most inspirational power that helped Taarab outpace <-_it's><+_its> contemporary rival; dance music.
A thorough research conducted recently has revealed that taarab with <-_it's><+_its> well mannered ambiguity in lyrics, touches all the cornerstones of a woman's daily life.
The music itself is a living art that <-/silhouttes> the urban women's social life and brings them together in an alien world that is out of men's reach.
"Taarab has now reached a stage that is no longer a music for the coastal inhabitants", said W.O Mwajabu Selemani, a patron of J.W.T.Z. Taarab.
"It is a music which <-/every one> who loves good poetry, melody and artistic language can opt for", she explained.
A new trend has currently emerged that sees Taarab as <-_a> multi-religious and national, an art-form that couldn't come into <-_practise><+_practice> nationwide".
She pointed to a number of reasons that lead to a woman's choice to Taarab music. "First is the melodic simplicity, the touchy themes, and a mellow stage outlook", she started.
She further went on to say that originally Taarab was strictly a dance for women. It was purposely composed to fit their position as far as the general social outlook was concerned.
"The rejection of female artists to Jazz groups in favour of Taarab orchestras has never surprised me" , said Asha Rajab.
"We have three groups from a traditional troupe, a jazz band to a Taarab orchestra, but most of the female talents opt for Taarab as opposed to jazz".
Aisha Rajab, one of the reigning Taarab vocalists in a newly reformed J.W.T.Z. Taarab, said she feels secure as a Taarab singer.
She accounts all that interest owes to music's poetic language and a sense of urban <-/femininism> that has excelled in a perfect back-up style.
Aisha Rajabu whose musical debut was with a Temeke-based Yemen Musical Club, said she joined a Taarab group because she felt the music is in her blood, besides, "it is the only music a woman can use to express herself at length".
"Contrary to what is seen in dance <-_band's><+_bands>, stage performances, musicologists and the audiences, Taarab in fact is an alien trend immersed wildly into self-praise, veiled attacks, and supremacy", she analysed.
Crescencia Hadada and Sister Beatrice of Polisi Jazz Band, strongly oppose the idea that Taarab is a female music. They both believe in free choice of interest.
Beatrice, a new talent, largely expected to take over from Nuru Mhina, recalls how she made it as a vocalist with her band.
"I was singing for a Kurasini-based Anglican Church choir when Adelgot Haule proposed the idea of me joining his band.
"It was a case of being at the right moment and time", she smiled.
"It's not that I would've turned down Captain John Komba's offer had he come first with his TOT proposal".
However, Lucy Mela, a young female singer with Mwenge Jazz, has a different opinion.
"The chances are open so long as you possess a sense of determination in what you intend to do as an artist", she said.
"If you aim at winning popularity and shaping your personality before fellow partners, you might be misinterpreted and frustrated, and the jinx is, the whole thing could be counter-productive", she explained.
Salim Abdu, a keyboard player with the Dar es Salaam-based All Stars argues that, most people think wrongly about women <-/per forming> in Taarab groups.
"In Zanzibar and Pemba, Taarab is taken as a social music done in a way compatible to their environment, in the mainland, Taarab is categorised as Swahili and coastal or the music of the urban people", said Abdu.
"The discovery of artists like JKT's Elizabeth Sijila or Patricia Hilali could be taken as a decisive blow that silenced the coastal people.
Another dimension to mainland Taarab which many of my interviewees accepted is the belief that is expressed satirically. "", implying that Taarab is never done with an artist who doesn't possess a coastal or islamic background".
The other side of it is a direct attempt on the part of Jazz bands to frustrate female singers. Since they were formed in the late 1970s, Mlimani Park Orchestra have never had a female singer.
"I don't know the reason but I think they are just reluctant to take chances because they have seen <-/no one> doing that in our band. However, we are ready to take any of them if one has determination and commitment", said Machaku Salum, the band's Secretary General.
Salum pointed out that women are much needed in dance bands because their presence has an attracting effect in the musical form since they naturally have a soft, clean and a high-pitched voice.
Kida Wazire is perhaps the creme-de-la-creme among female artists who took a swing at dance bands, and perhaps the most experienced having played both <-/artforms>.
Her views show her much as a matured artist rather than a back-up singer. Kida's viewpoint, however, has a major typical ignorance.
She cites individual endeavour and the nation's unmusical atmosphere as the causes of this uneven distribution of the number of female artists in the scene.
"I don't want to mention <-/any one> in this context, but considering how females have risen and <-_fell><+_fallen> in their music careers, it is enough a reason in itself", she said, "female artist need simple musical forms which can end positively, providing her marital possibilities for example", she said.
She adds that women go for Taarab because it is the only semi-commercial music a woman can take part without sweating much.
"Professional music is always painfully attained. We fail to hit jackpots beyond our borders because we don't want to sweat, we want cherries without working for them", she said bitterly.
Contrary to other female singers, Kida Waziri still feels she can perform miracles in the male-dominated profession.
"I am no longer a laid-back, shy, so naive a girl I used to be. I'm not dependent on anyone but my voice" she said matter-of-factly.
Kida also works a six-hour performance unscathed and plays a ten-drum kit at the same time.
"By singing, composing, playing some recessive instruments, and playing 10 drums is the highest form of achievement a female artist has ever attained", she said proudly.
"To be able to compete inside a dance music group, you have to <-_practice><+_practise> hard and tirelessly. It is only through tolerance and determination that we will make it", she advised.
Lack of female artists in the dance-music arena seems to be answered by <-_the> history itself.
The survey in the East and Central African music history from the founders of our music such as African Jazz, Kilwa Jazz, TP OK Jazz, Dar Jazz, all of which have been active since the 1940s, no <-_women><+_woman> or female artist has had an impact on the musical scene.
All over Africa, besides <-/legendaries> such as the Egyptian Um Kulthum, Miriam Makeba and Dorothy Masuka from the South African Kwela-Jive days, no significant contributions <-_has><+_have> been seen on the local female front.
Vocalists and what sounds 'Stereo'
Having full details about the pillars of the Tanzanian singing machinery and their disciples isn't enough, it is equally important to analyse the later forces that brought some new changes in the predominant <-/rhumba>-oriented vocal style.
Mbaraka Mwinshehe, Muhidini Mwalimu Gurumo, Hassan Bitchuka, Salum Zahoro, Marijani Rajabu are names found in the gallery of all time masters of the Tanzanian vocal traditional let alone being the most inspirational band leaders.
The gallery also <-_include><+_includes> the names of <-_the> singers such as Zahir Ally, Patrick Balisidya, Hemedi Maneti and Nico Zenge Kalla who came on the scene later and injected new life into common singing styles and techniques which had long exceeded their expiry dates, having been around non-stop since the 1970s.
Animateur
Nico Zenge Kalla was perhaps the biggest 'animateur' to fill Juwata Jazz's loss of their key musicians, Hassan Bitchuka, Muhidini Mwalimu and Fresh Jumbe who had crossed over to DDC Mlimani park.
After having 'signed' him from Orchestra Vina Vina, Juwata made the best use of Zenge Kalla's sneaky, high-pitched voice to <-/repolish> their lost gleam.
Teaming up with other high-voiced singers, Tino Masinge, Moshi William and Suleiman Mbwembwe and releasing a handful of cuts in 'Solemba', 'Priscilla', and 'Bahati', a mellower <-/midtempo> ballad which remains a typical Zenge Kalla classic.
This new, highly-unmatched singing style was kind of retrospective, and the first of <-_it's><+_its> kind to emerge in Tanzanian dance music.
The vocal lines owe heavily to the Bronx or the West Coast-influenced rap and Hip-Hop. Packed with line-up of evergreen artists, he won many fans who admired his unique singing style.
In a country where music is predominantly a male profession, and the male singers whose vocal range plays between an alto and a tenor, great amount of Tanzanian music can be heard in keys F and G. These keys are much used in our music because they suit the vocal range of our singers.
In a lesser account, key A which contains 3 sharps and 4 flats has also been used in some songs. Tracks that lived in this key include Mlimani Park's "", and "Maudhi", a composition of Luiza Elias John.
Bitchuka's "Aija" and "" are the finest examples of songs done in the highest pitch, a range very few musicians can cope with.
A positive analytical classification of our singers should always start like this: Hassan Bitchuka (TFTU), Hamisi Juma (a semi retired singer) and Bima Lee's former vocalist, Roy Bashekanako (Novatus Rweyemamu).
Any other classification of our singers would go to a range of alto-categorisation which most of the male singers own. The long list of the <-/altoists> is long, but the most popular ones are Shaaban Dede, Nassir Lubua and Benno Villa Anthony.
The third range tenor includes Hemedi Maneti, Dr. Remmy Ongala, Muhidini Mwalimu Gurumo and Max Bushoke are the most popular.
Distinctive
There's also a class of a few gifted artists with unique vocal forms that play distinctive roles in their bands.
Hamza Masongi of Polisi Jazz whose wafery thin shaky voice is a big flavour in the band singing style. Suleiman Mbwembwe, Mohamed Salum Gotagota and Jerry Nashon, all having played for Vijana Orchestra have natural strained falsettos which many bands find hard to replace.
Singers who excelled in this trend include Mbaraka Mwinshehe and Hassan Bitchuka both of whom had dictating roles in their bands in creating the <-_bands><+_bands'> repertoire that won them audiences.
Listening to numbers like "Tina", "", "" or "Gloria" and "" evokes the glory behind the harmonious vocal prowess inside the masters of the voice.
Masters' voice
Alongside their unique singing talents, Mbaraka Mwinshehe outclassed others in vocal perfection. He sang in a way that indicates an interchangeable flow of vocal ranges, even to the naive ear of an unprofessional listener.
The coming of 'cavacha', a vibrant Zairean dance style that was introduced by Zaiko Langa Langa, beating the old <-/rhumba> styles of great bands of the day; T.P.O.K. Jazz and Conga Success', the music scene saw a new singing trend.
A wave of male singers such as Canta Danos Nyboma Mwandido (Les Kamale) Luswama Matoba, Kilola (Lipua-Lipua) and Mfui Mwane (Kiam) came with high-pitched soprano voices that was 'cavacha''s dancehall magic.
Being carried away by the 'cavacha' fever, Tanzanian bands began emulating their Zairean counterparts in a domain that not only needed a lot of multi-melodics but also fancy instrumental display.
Whether influenced by the 'cavacha cult' or not, Tanzania singers slurped up the new style wholesale.
Salim Zahoro of Shikamoo Jazz is perhaps the oldest singing figure whose voice has remained consistent to date. Zahoro has maintained his clean cut voice for five decades.
Musicians point out that their vocal capabilities are often thwarted by imbibing locally made liquor popularly known as Gongo.
"The quality of a good singer doesn't only match his ability to produce a clear voice but the power to merge the melody into the harmony", said Michael 'King' Enoch.
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All That Jazz
In Dar es Salaam at the moment, Jazz music is celebrating a birth, or rather a resurgence of sorts. For this year has seen the introduction of jazz music as the latest trend to go on the plethora of programs that the city's Radio One FM/AM Stereo caters for a wide range of it's myriad of music listeners.
Not only the radio's Aficionados have felt that jazz music was <-/conspicously> absent, but have also given in to the great public demand on the part of the city's '40s' generation for the radio to give jazz music enough airtime if any at all.
"Jazz as an artform is somewhat like a family heirloom. It's so special", said Ahmed Kipozi, a jazz program host for Radio One.
'Jazz Hour' comes as an inspiration to the city's '40s' generation as it coincides with the international event that jazz lovers and news medium have been waiting. For this month celebrates jazz's Centennial Anniversary in America. The event also coincides with The Black History Month, another annual event that marks and honours the Blacks achievements and merits in contribution to the US tradition, now underway in America.
So we believe it's high time we got tuned again to those soothing sounds that were made to go with the night, from many jazz greats like Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, John Coltrane, Dizzy Gillepsie, Count Basie, Grover Washington, Miles Davis, B.B. King, Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole, Earl Klugh etc. And also have an opportunity to recognise the jazz legends and understand the music itself, I suppose.
Unfortunately, critics take issue with Jazz Hour, "For some reason, the first three initial weekend programmes went way out to lend themselves strictly to the new sound: Acid Jazz", said David Mwichande, an ardent jazz fan and saxophone player.
For acid jazz is not a fad, critics maintain, and a number of jazz authorities say it really isn't a new influence in jazz, nor a perfect representation of the music itself.
Experimenters
Last Sunday we heard lots of Kenny G, Anita Baker, George Howard, Jonathan Butler, Natalie Cole etc. All 80s and 90s jazz experimenters at a time when jazz is 100 years old and just having cut it's birthday cake.
"For God's sake! Why shouldn't the programmes bring us back to the good old days of the 'Satchmo' likes?", said Bruce Bjorklund, a music and theatrical artist with the Goethe Institute.
This is the question I put to Ahmed Kipozi, the programme host, who employed his near legendary talents to paint a more compelling picture to address the deficiency.
"In fact, this is just a signature take off. We've yet to establish a direction". Admitting to have dedicated his initial airtimes to strictly new sounds, he adds, "We're for both generations, the new and the old. We didn't want our young listeners to have the idea that this was reserved for the old guards. As time goes by we'll incorporate all the jazz greats who, I personally, hold with much esteem", said the Jazz Hour host.
I (writer) personally, don't know when jazz officially was founded in America, so <-_doesn't><+_don't> the authorities. All I know is that it's about a century old, starting somewhere in the late 1880s in the south, primarily New Orleans.
A number of music art forms were associated with the Black community shortly after slavery ended in 1865. The music included different piano styles, the most important being ragtime. We also saw the development of blues after slavery as well. And we also saw the continuation of the evolution of some of the music that slaves had made, and some of them began to develop into other forms of black, popular music. Jazz, blues, ragtime, marching band and dance music, were among the original art forms conceived within the black community.
Slaves
Authorities say jazz actually evolved from dance music and marching band music. Therefore sometime in 1890, probably we began to see a music evolving that is different from the dance music and the marching band music forms. People called this 'hot music'. We don't know where the word jazz came from. No one person invented it.
By the late 1890s, this music was spelled 'jass' or 'jaz'. In fact it's believed those terms came about in terms of reference to what you did to those other art forms of music that made them hot. And so the adjective, over a period of time became the noun.
What I clearly know is that the foundation for jazz lies in the African American community, and lies <-/cleary> in the retention they had in the music of Africa and during slavery.
We know also that it was influenced by the brass bands that were very popular in the south, primarily the Catholic south. Important events <-/occured> in New Orleans that allowed jazz to grab a foothold in the industry. For one, the New Orleans three-tier-society, consisting of blacks, whites (creoles) and coloured, travelled within their own circles, but had more access to whites than blacks.
Before the three-tier-society was dissolved, prior to the turn of the century, New Orleans was known for it's red light district. And creoles had more opportunities than blacks to get jobs in the district brothels, restaurants, bars etc. But when blacks went down-town to play or scrape for a bite of something to eat, they went with their music along with them. In fact the New Orleans red light district became so popular, the majority of musicians being blacks and creoles. But pretty soon whites began also hearing this new music and played it as well.
When the red light district was closed in 1917, it forced black and creole musicians to search for employment elsewhere. Many moved to other communities. Also a white music company recorded a tune performed by a white jazz group, The Original Dixieland Jazz Band that gave jazz more public exposure.
The most important of jazz musicians left New Orleans and settled in Chicago and the city became the next important stop in the history of jazz. Important names included 'King' Joe Oliver, Jelly Roll Morton, Warren 'Baby' Dobbs and his brother Johnny, the legendary Louis 'satchmo' Armstrong and 'Kid' Ory. The only influential white group among them was The New Orleans Rhythm Kings.
The <-/afore mentioned> musicians brought to Chicago the highest level of New Orleans jazz. The second style of jazz after New Orleans is <-/reffered> to as the Chicago style. Important figures that represented the Chicago style included the Austin High Gang, a white group. They were eventually joined by other white musicians in Chicago including Benny Goodman, Gene Krupa and Bix Bierderbecke. These musicians stimulated white acceptance of jazz in the US.
But still the most important creator during the 1920s was Louis Armstrong. He organised two groups under the names ‚Louis Armstrong Hot 5 and Louis Armstrong Hot 7.
And the recordings of these two groups are the epitome of what New Orleans and Chicago jazz was in the late 1920s. Armstrong left Chicago for a year and moved to New York city, where he performed with an 11-piece band organised by Fletcher Henderson. This band laid the foundation in terms of musical format as well as style and direction of what eventually was referred to as the big band or swing-music.
Then came the middle period. This period included such jazz forms as swing, bebop, cool jazz and hard bop. Swing has a style authorities believe all good jazz musicians should adopt or be able to imitate. It's generally played by a big band, and the musical arrangements tend to feature unison melodic lines. The arrangements usually featured back ground harmonies, call and response patterns, a flat four beats per measure and lots of riff patterns. Swing music saw <-_>it's<+_its> hey days from the late 1920s to the early 1940s.
Harmonies
Bebop consists of a small group of musicians, usually as quartets or quintets. The main focus is improvisation which is spontaneous musical creativity by an instrumentalist. Many bebop compositions are based on the 'contrafact', which are compositions that use the harmonies of other compositions such as "I've Got Rhythm" and "What Is This Thing Called Love".
Bebop composers often take harmonies from a number of songs and add new melodies. One cannot copyright harmonies. Cool jazz tends to emphasize rhythm. It features 'conjuct' or connected melodies. It has lots of sophisticated harmonies. Hard bop is a continuation of bebop brought to life after Charles Parker died.
However it tended to de-emphasize the 'contrafact'. Hard bop and bebop both feature swinging rhythm sections and great improvisation.
I would say the middle period, especially swing was more popular than the early period or the later period. It tended to attract more jazz authorities to the music because you could dance to it. It did not require a sophisticated knowledge of music to understand or enjoy it. So it tended to draw a wide spectrum of persons. They were in my opinion, more community based because they were playing for country type activities such as dances.
So this is just a glimpse of part of the homework the jazz-hour program has. Jazz is much more sophisticated and a more difficult art form compared to R&B, funk,, zouk, reggae or soul music.
Habits die hard, and people like to hear what they know. What they know is what they'll like. And what they'll like is what they'll understand. With all that jazz and on a Sunday Morning, <-_its><+_it's> more than a double pleasure.
Kigoma stages duo disco competition
It was a long and thrilling night at Kigoma Railway Hotel on the eve of this year's Idd el Haj festival.
Swaying, sliding, jamming and pivoting to the tunes of low and high funk and reggae music at the hotel's garden was followed by , Mayenu and meches tunes at the Mess Hall.
For the Western music, eight dancers took to the floor for their final disco competition after gruelling two earlier rounds.
Led by Kigoma break dance veteran Ramma Best, competitors made all kinds of acrobatic stunts in the form of break dancing to the delight of the audience.
Among the eight finalists were Ramma Best, Jimmy Jackson,
Robert Cool, Best Seller, Super Mlaka, Jimmy London and a young boy Michael Jackson, who often pulled the crowd to appraise his talents.
All the four groups of two dancers were in turn called out to dance three numbers of low funk, high funk (breakdance) and reggae. There was always overwhelming applause from music fanatics after every performance.
But when Ramma Best came in to prove his prowess in funk and reggae, he produced some of the <-/robbot>-like jerks and more calculated moves for most outstanding applause.
Twenty-six-year old Ramma Best, displayed even more talents in breakdance. He at one time danced while juggling his hat from his head to his right foot. He was also swift elegant and steady. He had complete control of his body, doing everything with ease.
Nicknamed "Michael Jackson", Ramma made twists and turns just like Michael Jackson as seen on TV.
There was no lady dancer this time, but the Kigoma Railways Hotel management is optimistic that some might come out for future competitions.
There were three judges - two British tourists from London and a Tanzania lady. The experienced British dancers Paul and Cris Ferguson with their counterpart came up with a list of all eight dancers with their points scored.
The first prize of 10,000/- went to Rama Best who scored 244.5 points, while the second prize of 8,000/- was snatched by Jimmy Jackson who scored 238 points.
Jimmy London, who scored 234 points, received the third prize of 6,000/- and 3,500/- went to Best Seller, who was fourth.
Robert Cool, always cool even when dancing in competitions, was placed fifth and went home with 2,500/-.
While Western music lovers continued digging a send-off dance for the winners, the hotel's Mess Hall was live with Zairean music. Though impromptly registered for the competition, some 12 competitors took to demonstrate their skills.
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Ndalichako, prolific story writer
ONE OF Tanzania's prolific short story writers who cannot be easily discouraged by publishers is Laurent Ndalichako. He says he has already written more than 100 short stories.
Ndalichako started writing while he was doing O-level education at Moshi Technical School between 1973 and 1976, "at the time I wanted to write a novel and I sent three swahili manuscripts <-/antitled> , and to <-/Heineman> educational books in Kenya, intending the first two titles to appear in their African writer series. After both manuscripts were rejected sent them to Transafrica Publishers in Nairobi which also rejected the manuscripts," he said.
Prior to this, Ndalichako had sent the manuscript "" to the Tanzania Publishing House (TPH). He said the manuscript could not be traced when he visited their headquarters for a follow up after a long silence.
"This was what had prompted me to send my subsequent two attempts at novel writing to Nairobi. Unfortunately although the rejection slips explicitly indicated that the rejection was based on their respective house philosophies. I was nevertheless discouraged and did not attempt to find another publisher and the two manuscripts have since been lost while I was at Dar Technical College between 1977 and 81" he recalls.
Ndalichako's first short story The Height of Absurdity was published in the Sunday News in June 1978.
"The short story column was then three Sundays old and my contribution was the second to be run in the column after <-_Andunis><+_>Anduni's> Revenge of Aduneta was published on 28, May 1978 and on 4 June the same year. I have ever since been contributing regularly to the column for the past 13 years and the number that have been published by the Sunday news alone as of August 18 this year is 63,"
His first Kiswahili short story was published in Mzalendo on 10, June 1984 entitled "Mkuki Kwa Nguruwe! Ndalichako has subsequently contributed stories to various Kiswahili papers.
African writers who inspired Ndalichako to an extent that he began seriously thinking of writing are Chinua Achebe, Vincent Chukwuemeka Ike, Cyprian Ekwensi, Ngugi wa Thiongo, Barbara Kimenya, with her Moses series which Ndalichako read in primary school.
"Another major thing that contributed to my desire to read was the fact that during my formative years, my mother Mrs. Mary Ndalichako, used to subscribe to such magazines as Film (featuring Lance Spearmen and Zollo) Boom (fearless Fang) Drum and Trust and which I was very fond of although I was in primary school (between 1967 and 72).
"My vocabulary came to increase considerably as a result of this interest of mine. This may be the reason that I feel much at home writing in English although I could have written more Kiswahili stories had they not proved to be difficult to get published in the newspapers," he said.
Talking about problems of publishing he says: "Problems that I have encountered with publishers in trying to publish my works in book form vary according to categories of publishers. From my experience, I came to know that most public publishing <-_institution><+_institutions> actually give much preference on 'who the writer is in the society' first then on the quality of work submitted to them.
"It is thus very difficult for a budding writer to get published by those institutions as <-_mostly><+_most> regard it as a favour to publish a manuscript sent to them.
Given the number of manuscripts they receive each year and the few titles they can publish each year, they can justify rejecting any number they wish, even if in reality the manuscript is better than those they chose to publish," he laments.
Versatile musician loud and clear
A VERSATILE musician and experienced composer and singer is making his presence felt in the city of Dar es Salaam.
Shaaban Dede, currently with Mlimani Park Orchestra, is taken by his fans and foes as a vocalist Maestro.
Dede, the first son in a family of three, was born in 1955 in Kagera region. His interest in music dates back to 1972 when he joined the Tanu Youth League Jazz Band of Biharamulo in Kagera.
His parents were not happy with his interest in music, instead insisted that he become a farmer.
When asked why his parents were against music, he replied: "My father had already noticed that I loved music more than anything else. So he had doubts whether I could excel in both music and farming."
However, these demands did not make Dede lose his interest in music.
In mid-70's he decided to go back to Bukoba and joined the Kagera Police Jazz Band. With the band he gained experience as a drummer and a vocalist.
Late in 1971, he joined the Kasababo Jazz Band of Kigoma for almost a year, before reuniting with his father at Kanyigo village in Kagera region where he concentrated on farming.
Dede says "I couldn't do without music". His dreams came true. He became one of those members who formed Aluta Continua Jazz Band in 1977. His band manager Nkana advised and encouraged him to stick to vocals.
Asked how long he stayed with the group, Dede said he was not happy with the band because chances of progress were very slim, as the band was operating on part-time basis.
He later entered the Mirambo Jazz Band of Tabora Region. This was late in 1977, briefly before crossing to Tabora Jazz Band in 1978.
His first recorded song proved his musical talents with the band, apart from being one of the youngest musicians in the group.
In October 1978, he was one of the founder members of the Dodoma International Band in Dodoma and recorded other songs Mwajuma, Msafiri and Flora.
Dede did not end there. He ventured to Juwata Jazz Band up to 1982, before joining Mlimani Park Orchestra the same year.
"I can remember few songs Fatuma, Jane, , , , and Kimwaga, said the musician on songs that made him a name.
He joined Bima Lee Orchestra in 1984 up to 1987. Then he pulled out from music scenes for a period of two years, before going to Orchestra Safari Sound in 1989, where he stayed with the group for a year and was called back to join his former beloved band the Bima Lee Orchestra early last year.
"What pains most is how poor we are in the music industry", noted Dede who charged that relevant authorities were not taking note of promoting local musicians.
Only a fortnight ago, Dede went back to his favourite band Mlimani Park Orchestra.
The man behind a guide to Tanzania's National Parks
IF medals were to be awarded to indigenous Tanzanians who have made efforts to portray to the world the country's abundance of wildlife and natural beauty, Lilla N. Lyogello deserves a gold.
This is not because Lyogello is a trained wildlife manager or park warden-tourism only. The bespectacled, tall and slim Lilla would be thus credited for his authorship of the book "A Guide to Tanzanian National Parks."
First published in 1988 by tourist publishing consult, the 263-paged book has won rave reviews from authoritative sources, including former minister for natural resources and tourism, Solomon Ole Saibull.
"This manual is going to be useful not only to visitors, but to students at all levels," said Saibull in his foreword, <-/vinticating> the book's worthiness in giving the reader a reliable introduction to Tanzania National Parks and other wildlife areas.
Forsbroke, former conservator of Ngorongoro, said: "This book will meet a long felt want. There are several good park guides and attractive brochures issued by lodges and travel agents, but nothing so far presents a full picture of Tanzania national parks. This book has been designed to serve the dual purpose of acquainting Tanzanians of the richness of their inheritance, and publicising Tanzania's attractions overseas".
Said the Tanzania Tourist Corporation (TTC):"The parks are well described, the major attractions and the maps being valuable features. This book, therefore, must find its way onto the desk of every concerned travel agency and tour operator within Tanzania and overseas."
"For general knowledge", contributed the Ngorongo crater conservation area authority "the book will assist students in secondary and post secondary schools, particularly members of Malihai clubs of Tanzania as well as driver guides, to know about the wildlife parks of Tanzania which they hear so much on the radio and which they cherish to visit......"
The sources having said all that I was supposed to as I was about to write a review of the book after going through it several times, searching and cornering the author for a chat was the only task that remained.
"Many people like to call me Lyongello and not Lyogello due to reasons which I myself am yet to grasp," said the rather modest and soft-spoken author of the book, in the offices of State Travel Services Ltd on Samora Avenue in Dar es Salaam, where he is manager.
Born in 1948 at Igurubi Village in Nzega, Tabora Region, the fifth child in a family of eight, Lyogello told me that his writing interests were accidental rather than otherwise.
Being a park warden soon after graduating from the College of African Wildlife Management, Mweka, in 1972, he was stationed in the Serengeti National Park for a year.
"My job involved a lot of writing reports upon reports in a daily basis during which time the idea of writing a book started to grow within me," he said of his "accident" with pen and paper.
Writing daily or monthly reports is one thing and writing a book is another, <-_though><+_thought> Lyogello, as he pondered how to go about his projected idea. "I decided to enrol with the international correspondence course and studied freelance journalism and effective English", he said.
The course plus the reports coupled with questions visitors always shot at him gave Lyogello a good foundation for book writing. Within no time and with the assistance of a friend and co-author, Gratian Luhikula, out came the "Northern Tanzania Tourist Guide" in mid 1980s.
For six years, between 1973-78, Lyogello worked at the National Park's headquarters in Arusha as head of the public relations unit under the then director of wildlife, the late Dereck Bryeson. He became more and more involved in lots of writing and educational programmes in the villages and schools.
The guide to Tanzania National Parks came into being at this time when Lyogello not only concluded that without an educational manual his work would have continued to be vapour formed because most of the questions those he taught about wildlife were the same.
"Since I had all the facts in hand," he said. "It was very easy for me to write the book. It took me only six months to complete the manuscript. But getting sponsors and other fiscal assistance took longer otherwise it would have had been out in 1980."
Lyogello, who recently graduated with a diploma in marketing from the Marketing Chartered Institute of Marketing UK, said his knowledge in wildlife, the basic writing skills from the ICS course plus the marketing course have helped him a lot in promoting his self-promoted book.
"We have a lot of writers in Tanzania but in one way or the other they are being discouraged in the financial aspect and the manipulation of publishers who pay you not more than 10 per cent of your work without regard of the time, energy and resources you have consumed," he said bitterly.
Lyogello, who is presently working on another book on Zanzibar island, also added that it was high time the government looked into the publishing industry so that more books get written for the benefit of the present and future generations.
Essay writing, which was Lyogello's pro-occupation when he was schooling at the St. Thomas More College (now Ihungo Secondary School) in Bukoba where he completed his "A" levels in 1970, had also played a big part in arousing his writing interests.
Married and with two sons and a daughter, Lyogello is very upset that all his books had to do with manually done illustrations. "They could have done with real <-_grossy><+_glossy> photos like they do overseas but since sponsors are short coming there is nothing I can do about it," he said.
The 16 maps and the 88 illustrations in the book which is bound in a black, orange and green jacket, have been drawn by Peter P. Ndembo and Angela Adye (illustrations) and maps by Costa Mahuwi. The layout was done by Sarah Bryan.
W2B010T
'Mama Africa'
Miriam Makeba: One of only a handful of African musicians to be internationally acclaimed outside the continent, she became a roving ambassador for Black Africa.
Behind the almost fairy tale show business success story, which whisked Miriam Makeba from a township singing group to international celebrity, lies <-_in> an epic tragedy of misfortune, injustice, bereavement, divorce, sickness, expulsion and exile. As she revealed in her auto-biography, a book titled A Lethal Spiritual Madness, released after her triumphant return to her country after years of exile. Now, in the wake of apartheid erudication and a new South African government in place, she still lives to recount her tale. This is her story:
THE best known of the country's many artistic exiles has been a woman called Mama Africa or the 'Empress of African Music'. But the name her mother bestowed on Miriam Makeba was Zenzi.
The name from the Xhosa dialect, is derived from the root word Uzenzile, Xhosa for 'you have no one to blame but yourself'. It seems harsh sentence and in retrospect, an unfair judgement to pass on a woman who has endured so much personal suffering in a career lasting more than 30 years.
She has brought joy to millions throughout the world, hope and pride to those 'exiled' within South Africa.
One of only a handful of African musicians to be internationally acclaimed outside the continent, Makeba became a roving ambassador for Black Africa, following the revocation of her passport by the white minority South African government in 1959.
Since then, her undeniable talent has been rewarded with a sparkling show business career. For 3 decades, she had been a figure-head for the struggle to liberate "the concentration camp which I escaped, but which is my home", Makeba recounts in the opening chapters of her own sad and often soul wrenching biography.
She has never been far from controversy and counter-propaganda. Her marriage to the American political activist Kwame Toure (Stockley Carmichael) left the lingering insinuation that she was a racist, a charge she <-_patiently><+_patently> denied, and also denies further in the auto-biography.
"People have accused me of being a racist, but I am just a person for justice and humanity. People say I sing politics, but what I sing is not politics, it is the truth"
Her ability to continue the beauty and pain of that personal truth, is what makes her auto-biography a masterpiece and another expression of her deep commitment and integrity.
Her personal testimony, drives the message further to the ground that she's still one of the truly legendary performers, who took part in all of it, not just a witness.
Apartheid
Her life was peopled with glamorous and powerful figures, and set about a background of international incident.
Born into a stable township family in 1932, Miriam's problems according to her biography, began when she was young with the death of her father. Forced to find work, she quickly discovered music was a type of magic that would lift her out of the house-maid's drudgery.
Even as a young schoolgirl, her singing achievements brought disappointment. Chosen by her school to sing for the visit of King George VI, she waited in the rain, only for him to drive by without stopping. The song she would have sung was titled What a Sad life for a Black Man.
When apartheid was introduced in South Africa, Makeba was just 15 years old, but old enough to grasp the consequences of that legislative obscenity. At 17, shortly after giving birth to Bongi, her first child, she was diagnosed to have cancer of the breast. Her first of five husbands deserted her soon after.
Her singing career progressed smoothly, performing Jazz standards and Kwela melodies in township bars, first with the Cuban Brothers then the Manhattan Brothers, with whom she toured Zimbabwe (then Rhodesia) and Zaire (then Leopoldville).
While touring with them, she also experienced some of the most callous aspects of the apartheid system. Trying to find help for group members fatally injured in a road accident, the racist government hospital had refused to intern the wounded musicians.
Two of them died out of neglect, after they were left to bleed profusely, before an awe-stricken Makeba who couldn't do anything but watch. According to the book, this was only one of her many shocking experiences she had to endure (some of which I've chosen to ignore)
The key to her international success was a small singing part in the film Come Back Africa. Invited <-_at><+_to> the show at Cannes Film Festival, Makeba became an instant celebrity. She was soon in New York, singing on Television and at the Village Vanguard Jazz Club. Staggering for the wide-eyed new comer, she was also within days performing at the birthday party for President John Fitzgerald Kennedy.
Guidance
Under the guidance of her new-found friend, Harry Belafonte, Makeba released a string of memorable recordings including the epic song "Malaika" and her follow-up click song "Pata Pata", which have remained the basis of her repertoire.
When her mother died in 1960, Makeba discovered her South African passport <-_has><+_had> been cancelled, preventing her to return home for the funeral.
From then on, until her triumphant return 30 years later, she was an exile from her own land. But even in the USA, her adopted country, turned <-_it's><+_its> back on her when she married Stockley Carmichael.
But Africa has never rejected Makeba for once, as well as performing for the many independence celebrations, she has collected a sheaf of diplomatic passports. She became a friend and confidante of late Guinean President Sekou Toure, where she found refuge.
Business life also had <-_it's><+_its> problems for Makeba. During the 60s, for example, she played often in Denmark.
But on one occasion failed to appear for her show. On returning to the country some years later, she was held and actually jailed until a financial penalty had been extracted.
In East Africa during the 70s, she ran into further controversy surrounding the classic song "Malaika".
First thought to be traditionally hers, and later claimed by song writers, including a Tanzanian Adam Salim who still maintains to date the authorship of the epic song.
"I had written that song for my girl, Halima, that's the angel I was talking about. At that time I didn't know anything about creativity nor royalties. When I heard Williams singing it, I thought hey! This is my song! I had tried to make them understand, but having no money, just like the guy I am in the song, I just couldn't do more". Salim told the Sunday News in November 1991.
More recently, before returning to South Africa, confusion surrounded her participation in Paul Simon's Graceland Tour.
A conflict of opinions on the cultural boycott of South Africa saw the supreme irony of ANC supporters in London picketing a Makeba performance. In fact, she says in her book, they were picketing Simon, who had professed ignorance of any such boycott, but Miriam Makeba and Hugh Masekela were only lending support.
Two years later, she was touring the world with a Graceland review. She had obviously had a change of heart, didn't she?
As mystic as herself, the auto-biography doesn't mention anything at all about Sarafina (The sound of freedom), the internationally acclaimed musical about a group of children who changed the course of South Africa.
In the movie, alongside Academy Award winning actress Whoopi Goldberg, Makeba plays Angelina (Sarafina's naive mother) who hasn't come to terms with the feelings of her people and above all, her own daughter Sarafina (played by Leleti Khumalo)
The movie based in Soweto, sees a new opening for a group of young students whose extraordinary teacher Mary Masambuga (played by Goldberg), defies the authorities and dares to teach the students ideas not found in approved textbooks.
Inspired to take their pride in themselves and their heritage, they form themselves into the school children's resistance movement. The organisation whose participation in the 1976 Soweto riots, would eventually lead to the release of Nelson Mandela and the gradual dismantling of apartheid.
Legacy
The movie, not only was a broadway hit by director Darell James Roodt, but lifted Makeba even higher at a very late age, and brought her back front stage once again in full throttle.
Always smarter to capture the fine moments, Makeba rarely misses a chance to sing, she breaks into a five-minute song "Thank You" before the closing rounds of the movie. Since her <-/single minded> concern has been the liberation of her country, perhaps she didn't see fit that <-/mentioing> the movie, in her auto, was anything to rave about now (my opinion) since things have changed.
Makeba's integrity has never been in doubt, she believed that Propaganda value of music should be utilised. Throughout the years she has <-/doubtlessly> proved it, and now through her book A Lethal Spiritual Madness, she lives to tell her almost sad tale, she lives to pardon, she lives to forget, she lives to teach and she lives to see another day.
But Africa will always remember her, years after she has gone. That, her voice and her presence, were one of her most powerful weapons.
This is the legacy the continent ought to learn, teach our children, so that our children could pass it on to their children, and their children's children. For the title 'Mama Africa', the continent has bestowed on her, couldn't be more appropriate.
The gods of the wanky six-string guitar
Lead guitar wankers are the monsters of rock or jazz. You know the type; a guy clad in leather claps or blue jeans and lizard skin boots or sneakers, leaning backward with skinny legs bent at the knees, making contorted faces as he squeezes out 82 high-pitched notes per second!
In Europe or America, it's the Eddie Van Halen school, Richie Sambora (Bon Jovi) Keith Richards
It started back in the 60s, with the introduction of the electric guitar by Fundi Konde and the <-/Hawaian> guitar by Dr. Nico, passing it on to Mwinshehe, and it has refused to go away.
Sometimes in the early 80s, Kasheba, then with Orchestra Safari Sound, was the god of the movement. Coming on strong with his 12 string 'music-box', he would strum away at his guitar wildly, making it cry or sing, leaving his peers gaping and fans stupefied. Quite an unprecedented spectacle.
In most of his crowd-tearing compositions including, "Vituko vya Ashura", "Fifty-fifty", "Ntale", "Dunia Msongamano" by his Orchestra Safari Sound, Kasheba would torture and hit out at his 12 string with a rebellious firepower and a bent fury.
With his 'Duku Duku' dance catch-phrase and an urgency to defame the wood work of his electric, twelve-wired instrument, Kasheba brought in a popular wave of seemingly wanky style, unseen before.
Always experimenting for new pastures, his-fingers-picking-good style, his often hard to shake-off macho posturing, his glorious minimalism of his solo, meshed perfectly into the angular quality and weight of his pop songs, which he boastfully referred to as 'Muziki ya Kilo'. Becoming the ultimate miracle to the country's live-band pop scene. He was the new music <-_diety><+_deity> in the 80s, notions of challenging him at that moment, became a distant illusion. Little did anyone know that, the man behind the guitar giant was Samba Makalai, an old OSS veteran, who laid all guitar tracks, structured and lined-up the menu for Kasheba to eat, and the latter ended up having all the credit.
But with the new rise of alternative rock-jazz fusion (Tanzanian style) in the past few years, a new, decidedly unwanky style has been taking over, making Kasheba look a complete novice.
Crazy
Raised on the necessity and a desire for new directions, the new guitar heroes have no time for indulgent solos or macho posturing, they are busily going crazy.
Mwenge Jazz's Mgoro Mohamed and Farahani Mzee are the current gods of the movement. Mgoro because he's the most melodic and eloquent guitarist that the country has yet produced. Mzee, because he's the most audacious and lives up to it.