Intelligent Musical Voices of Our Time

Musicians are underrated. As George W. Bush would put it, they are mis-underestimated! Who can explain the right to liberty, the essence of human freedom, better than Leonard Dembo in his classic ‘Zvaunoda Handizvigoni’? Who can capture the soul and intrigue of our criminal justice system better than Simon Chimbetu in his song ‘Ndourayiwa’? Cephas Karushanga described the unfairness of our legal system when he sang ‘Shereni ihombe pamhaka’! My beloved Dr Love, Paul Matavire sadly lambasted the rape complainant in the banned ‘Joke of the Year’ and yet gave praise to the prison system in his ‘Back from College’.
Oliver Mtukudzi laid bare the essence and connection of the Rule of Law and Democracy when he sang ‘Ngoromera’. In the most painful tune one will ever listen to, Dr Love captured the tragedy of orphaned children in his chilling classic ‘Handirambi’. James Chimombe’s ‘Kudakwashe’ entombs the pain of disability in a child like no other. Yet his heart-rending acceptability of it teaches the true essence of love.
Dembo’s ‘Chinyemu’ captures the unfairness of the tax system, while Chimbetu’s ‘Survival’ portrays the emergence of greed in public life. Lovemore Majaivana in his banned ‘Sayiwela’ painfully presents an invoice for compensation of victims of the Matabeleland and Midlands ‘madness’. His elegiac cry and the melancholy in his voice as he calls out Lookout Masuku from emathuleni cuts a deep nerve of pain. Dr Love’s frustration with selective compensation of war veterans is aptly captured in the less known gem ‘Govanai’. The musician understands the essence of social justice.
His exceptional talent is in evidence as he describes the sexual abuse and inequality women endure in his tragic-comedy ‘Dhiyabhorosi Nyoka’! Chiwoniso’s rendition of the Mbakumba spiritual ‘Nhemamusasa’ puts you in a trance as the pain of pastoral existence is transfigured into a rallying call for hard work. Yet, when you recall the poverty of ordinary folk you realise that maybe all you want is for Leonard Zhakata’s God to give you your own ‘Mugove’. You want to cry out, like Dembo did and sing ‘riiniko muchauya here, Baba kuzotinunura, vachauya here Baba?’ Mtukudzi could not stomach the long wait and had to complain ‘mhinduro yenyu inonoka, muchazopindura aniko?’. The first ‘record’ my Father bought me in 1978 was ‘ndochema misodzi, misodzi yeropa, pamuromo chete, heyaa, pamuromo chete’. He had overheard me sing it, then aged 5.
Who remembers Thomas Mapfumo’s ‘Pidigori Waenda’? Who remembers Pied Pipers’ ‘Gidi Ishasha’? The Harare Mambos popularised ‘Mbuya Nehanda kufa vachitaura shuwa...tora gidi uzvitonge’. When you listen to it played, especially by Victoria Falls legends, Mandebvu, you stand back and say, is this message timeless? Despite being independence songs, they reflect a continuous struggle for political freedom against a system that continues to use oppression against popular will. Oppression is colourless. It can look like you.
Wouldn’t you today cry when you listen to Marshall Munhumumwe and the Four Brothers sing ‘Maruchengera, naZvanyadza svetukaiwo tipembere, hona rugare rwauya, tiiteiwo makorokoto...amai hwee kanhi ndofara ini...!’ Listening to it now, you realise that Maruchengera and Zvanyadza were sceptical. They did not readily drown in the euphoria. They knew something. Maybe, as the saying goes, ‘we came too soon!’
By Tererai R. Mafukidze