dirty linen

Thomas Mapfumo
Voice of His People
by Chris Nickson

The three mbira players of Blacks Unlimited work at their thumb pianos creating hypnotic, interlocking riffs. Then the band kicks in over the top with a tune from their new album, Chimurenga Explosion. Center stage, unmoving, completely focused on his words, stands the Lion of Zimbabwe, singer Thomas Mapfumo.

"This is chimurenga music. Chimurenga means struggle, and the struggle continues."

This is the sound of Zimbabwe's biggest star, the man whose music was the soundtrack for independence, as the majority black population took over the running of the country, then called Rhodesia, from the minority control of whites. But in the two decades since then, Mapfumo has been quite vocal in his criticisms of President Robert Mugabe, too, playing no political favorites and simply trying to stand up and be the voice of his people.

"He's experiencing a huge new relevance because of his willingness to publicly defy Mugabe," observed journalist and Mapfumo biographer Banning Eyre. "A lot of his songs through the 90s talked about the problems of AIDS and poverty, and becoming more direct in his criticisms of Mugabe. In London, he told newspapers flat-out that Mugabe had to go. Then he had two songs ['Disaster' and 'Memvemve,' both on Chimurenga Explosion] banned from radio play, and that opened the flood gates."

"I had always been suspicious about Mugabe's people because of the way they operated during the liberation struggle," noted Mapfumo. "So many innocent people lost their lives, and some of them were killed by our own boys from the bush. I was suspicious of his government. I'm not a communist myself, and I don't like communism. I want to live in a democratic country where everyone has a voice."

With Zimbabwe rapidly collapsing into political crisis and wildfire violence, Mapfumo's dream might be a while in coming. But he's a musician who hasn't been silenced by jail or censorship, and when he flatly states, "The struggle still continues. We hope that maybe one day a victory is going to come," you believe him.

Born in 1945 in the small town of Marondera, in what was then the British colony of Rhodesia, Mapfumo attended a colonial school and became interested in music through British and American pop music that came through on the radio. While still a young teenager, he performed Elvis Presley's "A Mess Of Blues" in a talent show, backed — perhaps surprisingly — by a white band, the Bob Cyclones.

"During the rock 'n' roll era, I thought he had a wonderful voice, and he had some really good songs," Mapfumo recalled. "But there were a lot of musicians that I imitated. As a kid, I played everyone's music." It was his introduction to performing, and he was hooked. He began performing "copyright" music (i.e., cover tunes) with another local short-lived band, the Cosmic Four Dots, before being inspired to write his own music, which not only incorporated the rhythms of the local mbira — played on guitars —but was also sung in his native Shona language, which was a way of "identifying myself with my own people."

He joined forces with the wonderfully named Hallelujah Chicken Run Band in 1973, and the "new" Mapfumo was born. To him, utilizing the rhythm of the mbira was a natural progression. "When I listened to mbira music, it was as good as any other music I'd heard. So I thought it was danceable like any other music. And the mbira could be modernized and fused with modern instruments."

That band didn't last long, but Mapfumo, following his muse, hooked up with the Acid Band, whom he'd seen playing in a bar, and recorded his first singles. In 1976, Mapfumo shook up the Acid Band, bringing in a new guitarist, Jonah Sithole (who still plays with him), and in 1978, he gave the group a new name, the far more politically charged Blacks Unlimited. By that time, the music had come together, with guitars rippling through the mbira melodies, while the drummer underpinned it all, playing hosho rhythms on the hi-hat. The brass section roared, and Mapfumo and his backing singers laid their melodies over it all to create a potent brew.

Potent in more ways than one: Mapfumo used his songs as vehicles to protest against the white-dominated political system, and to sing the praises of the growing liberation movement. And he recorded a number of those songs on his debut album, Ho Koyo. It was a daring move in a country not known for its tolerance of the black population at the best of times. To openly criticize the government was asking for trouble, and Mapfumo got it.

This is an excerpt from issue #92.
to read it all, buy it on the newsstand or subscribe!

subscribe


© 2001 dirty linen ltd.