Showing posts with label Independence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Independence. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 06, 2020

MUSIC: Lumumba Heros National by Joseph Kabasele (c. 1960)



Play Lumumba Heros National {Audio + Still Pictures}
[DRC]

Joseph Kabasele Tshamala (1930-1983), Le Grand Kalle himself, was in many ways the founding father of modern Congolese music[1]; a brand of music which we, a good number of us, have come to know as #LingalaPop. Many keen observers will acknowledge that LingalaPop in many ways became the roots and trunk of Afropop, and now dominates all of Central, Eastern and Southern Africa – and even parts of West Africa. Its counterpart in North Africa is the even more recent phenomenon – ArabPop and/or MaghrebPop. Afrobeat is dominant in Nigeria, and has a huge influence among its neighbors – particularly Ghana, Togo and Cameroon. 

In Lumumba Heros National, Joseph Kabasele and his pioneering band, African Jazz, sing the praises of Patrice Emery Lumumba (1925-61) – a leading pro-independence politician and Republic of the Congo’s first Prime Minister[2].

The song is a finely fitting and absolutely spell-binding melody. Though the clip makes use of still pictures rather than ‘moving’, the visibility of the song’s hero and the events around him that it offers is co-equal with the sounds that the ear is ‘fed’ with. It is both memorable and historic in tenor, like the lyrics and the band’s instrumental rendition of moments in a young nation’s early life that are at once triumphant and tragic. It’s a forever song.

One noteworthy and perhaps most surprising feature of this song is that the lyrics were written and sung (in the early Sixties!) almost entirely in Swahili and not, as one would have expected, Lingala![3] Likewise noteworthy, too, is that Swahili was one of the four languages which Lumumba, a sapeur of sorts, spoke. How he learnt it, and what motivated him, one would love to know. Let me know when you do.

I vividly remember the song’s mournful and funerary sounds from long ago – not when it was released, but as the Sixties got going. The sounds came mostly over wired radio – and sometimes levitated over vinyl – in our pioneering ‘gated community’ of railway workers and, as I can say now, their young families – there in Nairobi’s Eastlands, some 2,415 kilometers (roughly 1,500 miles) far, far to the east of Kinshasa, DRC’s capital, as the pigeon – or the Osprey[4] – flies.

But I remember just as clearly conversations that I, playing with mates,  could hear going on among despondent grounds-workers in our ‘estate’ – nay, ‘lawn-mowers’ of sorts and such – when the news of Lumumba’s assassination arrived and churned in our midst at radio and ‘bush-telegraph’ speeds. It must have been January 1961. 

A song which had surely begun its unique life-course as an inspirational, celebratory, chante for an independence hero in circa June 1960, so soon and so tragically became, in effect and in the space of only seven months or so, a dirge! Those who encountered its distinct and entrancing tunes in the years after January 1961, and knew of the fate that had befallen their hero Lumumba, must have been, I imagine, hard put to believe that it had ever been anything but a mourning song. Not knowing exactly when the song was released, I, for one, had for the longest time, indeed until year 2020 came calling, assumed that it had been prompted, ‘inspired’, by Lumumba’s assassination. The lyrics, mostly in a quaint version of Swahili, included a few distinct words (such as ‘sikukuu’) and phrases with patently ‘broken’ meaning-strings and allusions which one could be forgiven for not taking too literally.

In 1967, Franco and L’O.K. Jazz also released a music audio by the same title. It was much more conducive to dancing than its introspective and soul-searching predecessor, and in it Mobutu’s name featured prominently. But that’s not the only reason I much prefer Kabasele’s. Comparisons will probably rage forever. Here it is: Lumumba Heros National. The lyrics, both in Lingala and in English translation, appear on the same YouTube page as the audio of the song.

LISTEN:  Tabu Ley Mourns Kabasele {Audio}

The lyrics of Franco’s version, which appear lower down the page to which the link just given takes you, don’t have the funerary bent of the earlier song. But it adds references to Mobutu which, given his reported complicity in the execution of Lumumba, will surely rub Lumumba’s admirers the wrong way. As Vientianegirl remarked in one of the public comments on the song’s YouTube page, “Franco is praising Mobutu as [an] heir [to] Lumumba’s legacy, while in reality Mobutu actively took part in Lumumba's assassination.”[5]



[2] He was in office only from June 30th, 1960 to September 1960, when he was deposed by a cold-war coalition of local political and military actors (spearheaded by Joseph Kasavubu and Joseph Mobutu) on the one hand and foreign state and multinational actors (Belgium, the US and the UN) on the other. He was then into custody in October and – after three months or so of byzantine machinations, prison-break, cat-and-mouse pursuits and final capture – executed by his captors on January 17th, 1961. martyred national hero.
[3] Lumumba Heros National is not the only song he sung in Swahili. Another song, released in 1961-1962, is now titled simply and confoundingly as B.B 69. It is a truly funky piece, and was extremely popular on radio in Nairobi, back in the day. It remains super-hot, even now! But most of B.B 69’s visibility, I hazard to say, was in the clubs and at parties – and secondarily in the modest but aspirational homes of the lumpen proletariat, the nascent elite, and parents of future ones.

Thursday, January 05, 2017

Iconic Mokili Mobimba



For all intents and purposes, Mokili Mobimba was played in and for the generation before the video, at the floodgates of Africa's independence decade in the very early Sixties. The video was still more that fifteen years from becoming the meme it became. 

Music video wasn't a thing, then, when Joseph Kabassele and Rochereau (Tabu Ley) sang this song and Nico Kassanda played the guitar and other players played. We knew the song before we knew the singers, and it didn't matter much that we didn't. Only that we loved the vibes and that they seeped, without our knowing, into our subconscious and our souls, there in Nairobi's Eastlands. 

And then one forgot who the musicians had been and what the song's title ever was. It was a kind of forgetfulness that made the forgetting immaterial. But something did linger.

Decades later, long after the identities of the singers and the players (but not the 'play') were swept out of mind and into oblivion by the many 'growing-up' things that occupied boomer minds and wouldn't let go, I found myself, at infrequent and particularly nostalgic moments, humming distorted snippets of Mokili Mobimba. This wonderful tune buried so deep in my memory but whose prosaic particulars stubbornly resisted recapture.

Today (on this day!) the prodigal song returned, in a manner of speaking. It returned because I bumped into it during a frenzied google-search which was unplanned and so started out of the blue. It returned because I came upon it. And, I wanted to say as I finish, I won't let it go no more. But how does one chain a force greater than one?


Here, the audio: