Lerato Mogoathle – Our African Pride
She’s one superbrave continental jet-setter, Lerato Mogoathle is currently uprooting fertile earth all over West Africa as she digs into the highs and lows of our mixed up continent. Get inspired by her moving African travel stories in the City Press (do yourselves a favour) and pack your own backpack for a true African discovery… We’re blessed to be in constant touch with her and to receive page-turning updates on the marvellous world of Miss L Boogie, today she shares her Salif Keita adventure with us. Represent Sisi! Sharpile for your words! :
Picture this, if you will. You are a music journalist jaded with the mainstream pop culture, hungry for more African music and currently travelling around West Africa, the region whose music, cultures and literature fuelled your obsession for experiencing Africa. You arrive in Abidjan, Ivory Coast, and love what you see when it is a poster announcing Salif Keita’s concert in two weeks.
The first time I saw Salif Keita on stage was in 2004 when he was being awarded a lifetime achievement award at the Kora All African Music Awards. Dressed in white, he literally descended on stage, glowing under the lights. This is the image, and admiration for his music and increasing obsession with Malian music that leads me to Yamasoukrrou, the capital of Ivory Coast. The newspapers said the show starts at 6pm. I arrived there in the nick of time, only to wait and wait for what felt like eternity to start. The ball starts rolling three hours later, with sound checks and opening acts that, as entertaining as they were, only made me my waiting that unbearable.
The Malian great Keita gets on the stage. The hall falls silent. We know we are about to experience a moment in time, not any other live show. He starts the show by kneeling before us; thanking us for being with him that night. He opens with two acoustic songs. The first feels like a worship session; calming, serene and with that haunting voice, a channeling of Allah’s presence and manifestation in the moment. The second song is a duet with Ivorian superstar Aisha. They are a class act, delivering a performance that seems like they are always practicing how to deliver the song. We watch in silence. Then Salif raises his hand. The 11 piece band, whose sound check lasts as long as they need to make sure everything comes out PERFECT, joins him. It was the second best live show I have ever been to. The other also belongs to Salif, a day later in the town of Bouake.
We rise and dance to the pulsating and layered beats. I was awed. By his professionalism, his humility on stage and his love and respect his gives to fans. He kept saluting us, ending songs with a merci boku and I love yous. Only when he says he loves you, you know it is true because soon he invites the crowd to join him on stage. It was a stampede that security tried stopping. He repeats the call, this time telling security to not limit the number of people. Moments like that, when a live show feels like elevation and you are simply out of your body, are rare. Stars seem to know their place and use being idolized to be separated from the crowd. With Salief, and indeed Aisha, it is the opposite. They are not stars; they act like our servants, giving us all their energy, love and attention, so that at the end of the show, you end up loving them more than before. With Salif, whom I got introduced to via his hit Africa, I was mesmerized and blown away and knowing why he is called the golden voice of Africa, a continent whose musical library and talent is, to me, among the richest on Earth. I have met many so called stars. They treat people like work and obligation, weary from the attention and never having a moment to breathe. Salif is the opposite. The how old is he goes back stage for a breather while his people try and contain the crowd waiting to meet him. Control herebeing not turning us away but urging us to wait a bit. We do and are rewarded with a magical moment; he gives us each a few minutes. Like all who meet him, I bow before him, two knees down and taking his right hand in mine…he reciprocates by tilting his head down, as if he does not see a reason for the behavior. My time ends too fast, with him saying he had to follow music or be a delinquent.
Context :
Mali, like West Africa, is very traditional and the traditions run “deeper than the Atlantic ocean,” in the words of Adam Levine’s The Wonder Safaris. The music tradition in Mali and Senegal is simple; music belongs to griots and you are only ever a griot by birth. He broke protocol being a musician; more so as his name, Keita, belongs to the royal family. He is a direct descendant of Sunjata Keita, who founded the Mande empire in the early 13th century. And though the Kingdom perished after 300 years, there are still certain expectations of his descendents. Music is not one of them, especially as the griots were employed to sing the praises of kings.
Tonight, I walk away blessed by his rebellious spirit and very sure that although they say the heart never misses what it does not know, our musical experience and history would be lacking had Salif not become a musician. He is a divine blessing and the two nights I watched him on stage, ever humble and always giving us love and respect, left me with one absolute conviction: I am going back to Mali, this time for three months instead of the two weeks I spent there in July, if only to dig deeper into the music, see more of Salif, who is currently touring Africa, and soak that glorious country’s soul stirring music. I also decide that I will watch him at every opportunity.
Food for thought:
I am always troubled by South Africa’s almost exclusive consumption of American pop and the prominence it enjoys in the media. I have, through my former column Down Low, spoken against this. Tonight, I know for sure that we are missing out on not focusing and celebrating African talent. So, I would like to urge and beg you, to please make space for our music. It is beautiful and when delivered by class acts, an embodiment of what the world love about us; soulful, stirring and delivered with respect.
