Rainforest World Music Festival: Struggling to be heard

Struggling to be heard

By MUMTAJ BEGUM

Except for a few people in the audience, nobody else at the Sarawak Cultural Village understood what singer Nahawa Doumbia from Mali was saying to them in French. What more for the audience to comprehend the lyrics to her songs that are said to be “stories from her life” sung in Bambari (one of the languages in Mali). Yet the listeners – comprising a vast mix of nationalities themselves – gathered for the recent Sarawak Rainforest World Music Festival just couldn’t get enough of the singer and the musicians accompanying her. Nahawa and the four-man band garbed in traditional stitches were the last act of the first night of this festival held in Santubong, Sarawak.

Cries of “satu lagi” and “we want more” did not fall on deaf ears and she complied by playing a song before she bid adieu just minutes shy from the stroke of midnight. Just like so many West African selections at previous editions of the fest, Nahawa was a firm delight.

On stage she is a force to be reckoned with. Not only because her voice is undoubtedly a powerful tool, but her personality tells us that she is truly at home on the stage. Jovial throughout the set, she cajoled the audience to sing along, and yes, in Bambari. She even encouraged members of the audience to come up and dance with her. One music lover fell down to his knees and touched her feet with his forehead worshipping her after he got a chance to share the stage with her.

This contrasted to the unsmiling woman who came to the press conference held 12 hours earlier (last Friday). It is as if the tragedy of how she had to hide her talent when she was growing up still affected her till today. Sitting down, she related her life in a resigned manner.

Of course, a more logical explanation could be that she was just jetlagged, having flown in the day before!

Her life was struck with misfortune a week after she was born; her mother passed away, leaving Nahawa to be cared for by her grandmother.

As translated by the group’s road manager Tom Puechavy, Nahawa told of how her grandmother went around the village called Manankoro looking for a mother who could breastfeed the newborn. In the end, the grandmother was given two cows to provide the milk.

Tragedy ensued.

With a slight smile, Nahawa recalled in French, “The first cow fell into a well and the second one died after a tree struck by lightning fell on it. You can still see the tree even today.” Her grandmother finally found some women to breastfeed her.

During one of her workshops at the fest, Nahawa spoke more about her music and life. Having lived with all these terrible events, she turned them into a heartfelt number titled Djiwe – that brought the workshop to a standstill. While the words do not signify anything to us, the emotion she conveyed in the song came out loud and clear.

Nahawa started singing when she was seven simply for the reason it gave her pleasure. But it was not something that was encouraged in the Wassoulou region (south of Mali). Her grandmother was Muslim and Nahawa’s want to sing was frowned upon. Furthermore, she was not of the right descendant in Mali. (Only the jali, the Manding caste that performs music, became singers). To put a stop to this, her grandmother got a magician to rid Nahawa of this gift. In her 2000 album titled Yaala, there is a song titled Minia in which she sings of a wicked wizard who is after her.

The strict ruling in Mali changed in the 1960s and the government believed that the development of the country could be achieved through music. Hence every two years, a meeting of youths called National Youth Week was organised by the country’s Ministry of Culture and the talented ones could showcase their talents.

She continued, “My friends and neighbours told me that I should take part in this contest.”

She did and, as the saying goes, the rest is history. With a career spanning nearly 20 years, she has slowly gained a steady following worldwide. Her albums are released in France and in Britain; she has put out records under the acclaimed Stern’s Music imprint.

She started her career by singing Didadi music, a rhythm from her village and played by youngsters there. Over the years, she has added instruments and her music and style have evolved with her but the basis of her music remains the traditional Didadi music. Her songs are made of hard issues such as rights of women and children, the conditions of the poor folk and working hard.

At this point of time, the band comprises a guitarist (N’gau Bagayok), Drissa Sidibe on a lute known as kemele n’goni and two percussionists – Al Hassane Sissoko (on djembe) and Mamadou Diarra on dhoundoun). She has eight albums to her name.

Nahawa Doumbia proves, above all, that music truly crosses all the invisible boundaries. And what would be a tragedy is not to see this performer in action.