Ritmo Artists

Oliver Mtukudzi
"I have tremendous respect for
Oliver, not just because of his
amazing body of music, but the

& Black Spirits

Oliver Mtukudzi is the best-selling
artist in his home country of
Zimbabwe, Africa. Lovingly called
"Tuku" for short, Oliver began
recording in the mid-1970s as
a member of Wagon Wheels, a
band that also featured
Thomas Mapfumo. After
Wagon Wheels rolled to fame
in Southern Africa, Tuku
formed Black Spirits, the band
that has backed him
throughout his career.
Tuku has been heavily
influenced by chimurenga, a
musical style that is inspired
by the hypnotic rhythms of the
mbira (thumb piano).
However chimurenga is just
one of many styles performed
commitment to raising people up
in all the work he does... It is high
time the rest of us have a chance
to see what has made ‘Tuku’ such
a treasure in his homeland."
- Bonnie Raitt
by Tuku, as his music also
incorporates pop influences, South traditional kateke drumming of his
African mbaqanga, the energetic clan, the Korekore.
Zimbabwean pop style jit, and the While Tuku’s music is undeniably
contagious, it is his lyrics that
have captured the hearts of his
people. The words to his songs,
performed in the Shona
language of Zimbabwe as well
as in English, invariably deal
with social and economic
issues. In the face of the
political turmoil and a horrific
AIDS epidemic that has swept
the African continent, Oliver's
humor and optimism creates
an appeal that crosses
generations.

"(Mtukudzi) ... further confirms the essential place African music has in
contemporary culture." - CNN Worldbeat

Mtukudzi is more of a soul man, delivering the goods with a distinct gospel/R&B air.
Like a laid-back Teddy Pendergrass, Mtukudzi exhorts gently, and when you slow
down, you get down with this super-melodic set. Tuku Music is a much overdue
introduction to one of the giants of African pop.” - Utne Reader

Ritmo Artists ~ phone: 512-447-5661 ~ fax: 512-447-5886 ~ e-mail: info@ritmoartists.com ~ www.ritmoartists.com

 Oliver Mtukudzi & Black Spirits
“… fans literally threw balled-up notes of legal tender onstage as Tuku and the Black Spirits
cranked up the intensity… Good thing One World has a large spring-loaded dance floor,
because syncopated clapping and booty rotation signaled a thickening house party.”
~ Austin Chronicle
“Oliver Mtukudzi puts modern twist on the culture of Zimbabwe.”
- San Francisco Chronicle

”... enticing grooves and something to think about.” - Billboard

"When Mtukudzi trades lines with (his) backup singers ..., it seems possible that the
entire world might come into sync with the sauntering cadence." -

quaver or preacherly fullness, Oliver Mtukudzi tells through a number of songs.

A Rhythmic Call
for Dignity
Joe’s Pub, New York,
NY, April 29, 2002
Performance Review
By Jon Pareles
Oliver Mtukudzi, one of
Zimbabwe’s leading
songwriters, was a fatherly
figure when he performed last
Monday and Tuesday nights at
Joe’s Pub. Tall and relaxed, with
a low husky voice, he called for
dignity, responsibility and
respect among tribes and
cultures.
His songs judiciously blended
styles from across southern
Africa and beyond without
submerging local traits. Playing
an acoustic set on Monday night
or leading his nine-member
band, the Black Spirits, on
Tuesday, Mr. Mtukudzi made
the messages dance. His songs
use the syncopated, hop-
scotching modal patterns of
traditional Zimbabwean music –
originally plucked on mbira
(thumb piano), now transferred
to guitar and keyboard – along
with soul-flavored urban South
African styles like mbaquanga.
His voice took on a traditionalist
setting up a gospel-like call-and-
response with three backup
singers while he led them in
strutting dance steps. Richard
Matimba’s keyboards could give
the music an international pop
gloss or mimic the mbira or the
pennywhistle of South African
kwela music. From the three-
chord solidity of mbaquanga
songs like “Hear Me Lord”
(which Bonnie Raitt sings on her
new album) to the dizzying nine-
beat Zimbabwean rhythm in
“Tsika Dedzu,” the band made
slower songs lilt and faster ones
fly.
Mr. Mtukudzi’s own guitar parts
support the songs the way a
tightrope carries an aerialist.
With the Black Spirits, his
acoustic guitar was tucked into
the polyphony of lead guitar and
keyboards, yet on Monday night
he didn’t try to fill in for missing
band members. He often plucked
just sparse arpeggios, yet they
were enough. As meshed
syncopations with Kenny
Neshamba on congas and traded
vocal lines with two female
singers, Mary Bell and Mwendi
Chibindi, he generated rhythmic
bliss out of thin air.
meaningful stories
with topical songs
Dallas Morning News
4/30/2002
Performance Review
by Matt Weitz
He’s a superstar in his native
Zimbabwe, but as is the case with
many other pop artists outside
the mainstream, most Americans
have never heard of Oliver
Mtukudzi. That’s their loss and
the gain of more than 700
members of Dallas’ Zimbabwean
community, who came out in
force for Mr. Mtukudzi’s Sunday
night show at the Metroplex
Banquet Hall. The performance
space was exactly what its name
implied – a room for dances and
wedding receptions. The lights
over the stage were moth-
mobbed fluorescent squares set
into ceiling tiles, and at full height
Mr. Mtukudzi was often in
danger of dislodging one or the
other as his head brushed the top
of the room. None of that
bothered the charismatic singer
and guitarist, however, as he led
his big band – three backup
singers, congas, drums, bass,
electric guitar, and keyboards –
Many of those were drawn from
his just-released album Vhunze
Moto. Although the general
sound of his songs lends a
lighthearted, tropical feeling –
almost irresistibly danceable – his
lyrics are more often than not
socially conscious and delivered
with a powerful voice that recalls
Otis Redding. One of the
principal voices praising Mr.
Mtukudzi in the West belongs to
Bonnie Raitt, who first
acknowledged his influence in
1998 with a co-written song “One
Belief Away” on her album
Fundamental. He paid back the
favor Sunday night with one of
the few songs he sang in English
– “hear Me Lord,” which he
wrote and which appears on Ms.
Raitt’s recently released Silver
Lining. Mr. Mtukudzi played
long and hard – almost 3 ½ hours
with a 40-minute intermission.
This might have had something
to do with the nature of the show.
“We’ve been playing a lot of
festivals and world-music dates,”
said Jacob Edgar, an executive at
Mr. Mtukudzi’s Putumayo label.
“This was a real show for the
Zimbabwean community.”

Phone: 512-447-5661 / Fax: 512-447-5886 E-mail: info@ritmoartists.com Web: www.ritmoartists.com

 Oliver Mtukudzi & Black Spirits
Oliver Mtukudzi - "Tuku", as absorbed into an art which is now Child', a project highlighting the plight
indubitably his own. of Zimbabwe's street children. For this
he is best known to his fans, has
Yet apart from the individuality of his accomplishment, he was honored by
enjoyed a professional music career
music, Tuku's enduring popularity has the Zimbabwe's Writers' Union.
that has spanned over twenty years and
largely resulted from his powers as a Alongside his interest in film and
produced forty one original albums,
lyricist. Most of his songs focus on the theatre, Tuku has continued to perform
most of them best-sellers. But it is his
social and economic issues that govern regularly in Zimbabwe with the Black
dedication to the live music scene in
people's daily lives and, with an Spirits. In November 1997 Oliver
Zimbabwe, playing to enthusiastic
infectious sense of humor and joined a collaboration of Southern
audiences in even the remotest parts of
optimism that prevails through all his African musicians called MAHUBE,
the country that has earned him the
music; his appeal extends to young and for the Out of Afrika Festival in
respect and the place in the people's
old alike. His open approach to the Munich. Such was the success of
hearts that he holds today.
Aids pandemic through his songs has MAHUBE that they have subsequently
Tuku was initiated into the world of
contributed greatly to restoring a sense performed in Holland, Germany,
music in 1977 when he joined the now
of care and responsibility within the Zimbabwe, and South Africa and
legendary Wagon Wheels, which also
wider community. recorded an album “Mahube,”
featured Thomas Mapfumo. Success
As the oldest of seven children, Oliver launched in October 1998 and more
came to them early - the first single
developed a sense of social and recently released in Europe and the
they recorded together,
economic responsibility early in life U.K.
“Dzandimomotera,” rapidly went
due to the premature death of his In a solo capacity Oliver then
gold, and this was followed by Tuku's
father. It was through this, and a desire performed in Berlin and Munich,
first album on four track which was
to bring his message to a wider Germany in May 1998, prior to
also a smash hit. It was with a number
audience, that Tuku ventured into the engaging in a month long overseas tour
of the musicians in the Wagon Wheels
worlds of film and drama. with the Black Spirits beginning with
line-up that Oliver formed the Black
Although he participated in several the prestigious Cactus Festival in
Spirits, the band who have backed him
documentaries on Zimbabwean music Brugge, Belgium and then in fourteen
throughout his career.
during the 1980s, including the BBC's different Festivals all over the U.K.
With Zimbabwean Independence in
“Under African Skies” and “The Soul during the month of July. This
1980, Oliver and the Black Spirits
of the Mbira,” it was not until 1990 included two performances and two
produced “Africa,” one of the most
that Tuku found film success playing workshops at the WOMAD Festival in
important albums of its time, and with
the lead role in “JIT” - the first film in Reading. Later that year the group
the two hits it spawned, “Zimbabwe”
his country to feature an all- were invited to perform at WOMEX,
and “Mazongonyedze,” the fledgling
Zimbabwean cast. “JIT” went on to be followed by the 14th Music Meeting in
country found one of its first great
released in France and the U.K. and, in Nijmegen that coincided with the
voices. Since Zimbabwe's
1993; he and the Black Spirits took part release of a new album entitled "Tuku
Independence in 1980, Oliver has
in Denmark's Images of Africa Festival Music."
released two albums every year,
to herald its arrival there. Tuku One of the biggest sellers ever in
establishing himself as a
followed the success of “JIT” with the Zimbabwe, “Tuku Music” was
producer/arranger, a prolific
role of Neria's brother in Zimbabwe's released by the Putumayo Artist in the
songwriter and, with his famous big
second feature film, “Neria,” for which U.S. and Canada as Oliver promoted
voice, a formidable lead singer.
he also wrote and arranged soundtrack. the CD with his first ever North
Tuku has, in fact, been so innovative in
A serious drama dealing with the American tour as part of the ’99 Africa
these various fields that his music is
thorny issue of woman's rights in a Fete tour where Oliver teamed up with
now widely described as Tuku music
chauvinist world, “Neria” proved to be blues legend Taj Mahal and Toumani
as it is quite distinctive from any other
another box-office triumph in Diabate and the infamous Baaba Maal
Zimbabwean style. This is not to say
Zimbabwe and earned Oliver the from Senegal. The tour covered twenty
that there are no recognizable
coveted M-Net Best Soundtrack Award cities, including WOMAD USA,
influences in his work - the traditional
in 1992 against stiff competition, Edmonton Folk Festival, Central Park
forms of mbira, the South African
including that of the highly acclaimed SummerStage in New York, and
mbaqanga, and the popular jiti styles all
Sarafina. finishing with the Bumbershoot
affect it deeply - but these, like katekwe,
From film, Tuku turned his attention Festival in Seattle.
the traditional drumming patterns of
to drama, writing, and directing the
his clan, the Korekore, are very much
live musical production 'Was my

Ritmo Artists
Phone: 512-447-5661 / Fax: 512-447-5886 E-mail: info@ritmoartists.com Web: www.ritmoartists.com
 Oliver Mtukudzi & Black Spirits
Offbeat
Paivepo ~ CD Review
(Putumayo Artists) The question you have to
ask about Oliver Mtukudzi is not "Where has
he been all this time?" but "Where has the
world been?" because in Zimbabwe, he’s a big,
big star, and has been for a couple of decades.
The 48-year-old was "discovered" last year as
the third booking on the second annual North
American tour of the Africa Fête package,
behind Taj Mahal’s collaboration with an
ensemble of virtuoso Malian stringed-
instrument players and avant-pop icon Baaba
Maal. Turns out Tuku, as he’s known back
home, was the surprise star of the show,
opening each set with the kind of easy-rolling
African rhythms, heavily flavored with the
skip-beat rhythms of neighboring South
Africa, that he plays from late night to early
morning twice a month at The Live Wire in
the Zimbabwean capital of Harare. Sung
entirely in his native Shona, Tuku’s lyrics
barely need translation because somehow the
emotion of them–the fierce insistence that his
people, the people of Zimbabwe, must take
heart and struggle proudly through the
problems plaguing nearly all emerging
countries right now in Africa comes through
on a level far deeper than spoken language.
rhythms derived from the mbira–a.k.a.
marimba, kalimba or "thumb-piano"–as
Zimbabwe’s is, Mtukudzi’s blend draws
heavily on the stop-start, turn-on-a-dime
influences of South African music. Stirred
with his unflinching yet warmly graveled
voice, Tuku’s songs bring a philosopher-poet’s
perspective to the problems of the day; the
same directness, a kind of fatherly joviality,
shines through the music, with “Paivepo”
sounding even brighter, less preachy and
more incurably danceable.
Perhaps it’s his youthful devotion to Otis
Redding and Wilson Pickett that makes the
feeling in Oliver Mtukudzi’s music so
instantly recognizable to audiences in the
U.S.; in any event, once the deep-soul
geniality of his music gets in your ear, it tends
to stay there (just ask Bonnie Raitt, who
borrowed the music from one of his signature
tunes for the closing number to her most
recent album). To accompany his North
American "debut" last year, Putumayo
released Tuku Music, an essential purchase
for lovers of rhythmic music and especially
those who care what that music is about; this
year’s Paivepo (Once Upon A Time) is even
better, topping all sales records in Zimbabwe
before its North American release. Graced
with the acoustic lightness of music based in

things for the One World…The full

Austin Chronicle
“Live Shots”
One World Theatre,
September 16, 2000
Austin is becoming an international
city, with universities, state
government, and high tech jobs
attracting the globe’s talented people.
No shock, then, that the One World
Theatre was populated by Africans who
came to hear Oliver Mtukudzi. Not
only is Tuku, as he is known, the most
successful recording artists of his
native Zimbabwe, but like fellow
Zimbabwean Thomas Mapfumo, Tuku
is known all over Mother Africa. In this
dance-o-matic, 2000-01 season-opening
performance, Tuku portended good
house was populated by world-music
mavens, trustafarians, beat freaks,
dreaded Anglos, and rich folk, because
unlike Mapfumo’s working-man
trancey-dancey Flamingo Cantina
concert in July, fans literally threw
balled-up notes of legal tender onstage
as Tuku and the Black Spirits cranked
up the intensity. Joining Tuku’s
emotive acoustic guitar runs were
electric five-string bass, three singers,
electric guitar, drum kit, synth keys,
and congas. After several vocal-driven,
supergroove numbers, Tuku & Co.
eased into his 1992 “Neria,” a reflective
ballad written for a film about women’s
rights in a chauvinistic world. Topical,
since Tuku’s 42 albums often deal with
subjects like child abuse, loss of
indigenous culture, and AIDS. Like
Mapfumo and Marley, Tuku sings sad,
real lyrics over an up beat, with songs
taking precedence over instrumental
pyrotechnics. Tuku dedicated the
subsequent number to “those who are
so far away from home.” Good thing
One World has a spring-loaded dance
floor, because syncopated clapping and
booty rotation signaled a thickening
house party. Seats were removed, and
finely dressed hardcores shook it next
to the stage, drawing from oversized
bottles of Heineken (curious, since the
theatre doesn’t sell liquor). The nine-
piece then embarked on another
serious dance igniter, oozing the same
hip-shaking power that fellow African
Waldermar Bastos will bring to UT
early next month…

Ritmo Artists
Phone: 512-447-5661 / Fax: 512-447-5886 E-mail: info@ritmoartists.com Web: www.ritmoartists.com
 Oliver Mtukudzi
Message Man
Zimbabwe's Oliver
Mtukudzi sings songs
that encourage social and
political change -- and
dancing.
Gambit Magazine
By Robert Nolan
- 'If there is one thing that
people of different ideas
and different ideals are
able to share, it is music.'
- Oliver Mtukudzi
If Chuck Berry were an
African, his stage presence
might resemble that of
Zimbabwean superstar Oliver
Mtukudzi. As the front man for
his band, the Black Spirits,
Mtukudzi often performs in the
kinds of sparkling sequin
shirts fancied by the father of
rock 'n' roll, and his pan-
African sounds are no less
invigorating. But unlike the
eternal teenager, Mtukudzi's
music reflects more than a
single era. As one of Africa's
most prolific writers and
musicians, Tuku, as he is
affectionately known in his
motherland, has created a
lasting sound that spans the
25-year-old history of one of
southern Africa's most
dynamic nations. Emerging
from the political fire that is
currently embroiling
Zimbabwe, Tuku is coming out
hot. His new release, Vhunze
Moto (Putumayo World
Music), translates from the
legend's native Shona tongue
to "Burning Embers," an
ample metaphor for the socio-
political transformations
“Mtukudzi's tuneful compositions possess an irresistible melancholy that
tantalizingly blurs the edges between sadness and joy.” - Folkroots
Phone: 512-447-5661 / Fax: 512-447-5886 E-mail: info@ritmoartists.com Web: www.ritmoartists.com
currently taking place in
Zimbabwe. Inspired by the
soulful and socially conscious
sounds of Otis Redding, Bob
Marley, and the stick-
drummers of his Korekore
tribe, Tuku has documented
the history of a young nation
still in search of its identity.
"The biggest challenge today
is culture maintenance," says
Mtukudzi in a phone interview
from Zimbabwe, as he
prepared to embark on his
second major U.S. tour. "A
culture is created by its
people, and that always
changes. Right now it is
running away too fast." Tuku
should know. As one of
Zimbabwe's rising musicians,
he warmed the stage at the
nation's independence for the
guest of honor, Bob Marley, in
a historic musical gala
celebrating the country's
liberation from white rule in
1980. However, more than 20
years after the second
chimurenga, or uprising,
Zimbabweans continue to
experience repression.
President Robert Mugabe,
who has been pushing a
controversial land-reform
program in Zimbabwe that has
devastated the country's
economy, was recently
reelected in an event that
many say was rigged. Mugabe
has also enacted a number of
draconian laws that restrict
personal freedoms. "Right
now, there is confusion," says
Tuku, whose subtle yet
politically potent songs have
been used by the country's
opposition party to encourage
change. "I expect people to
fight back, but they are not!
People are cool and quiet."
& Black Spirits
Cool and quiet are two things
that Tuku is not. Despite being
censored in the past by the
government, he continues to
perform his dance-inspiring
songs throughout Zimbabwe,
promoting tolerance and
understanding. "If there is one
thing that people of different
ideas and different ideals are
able to share, it is music," he
says diplomatically. "I have to
perform for them to neutralize
the tension." "Tuku Music," as
his style has become widely
known, can be heard from the
shabeens of the African bush -
- where men dance and drink
homebrewed beer illegally --
to Harare's vibrant nightspots,
where the nation's elite
converge to talk politics over
what is truly a global sound.
Backed by the glorious vocals
of Mwendi Chibindi and Mary
Bell, the rhythm and
harmonies of the Black Spirits
represent a near-perfect
welding of African and
Western musical concepts. An
inexhaustible lyricist, Tuku
often uses subtle metaphors
to provide social commentary
-- a technique he gleaned
from the countless proverbs
inherent in the Shona
language. Drawing from the
agricultural roots of his
people, Tuku's lyrics express
the hardships of daily life in
the rural areas, where most
Zimbabweans reside. "Vhunze
Moto means that an ember is
also a fire," he says, noting
that most women cook over
open flames. "If you touch an
ember you will get burned. If
you touch a fire you will get
burned. So why wait until it
burns you to call it fire?" he
asks. The underlying message
is clear to those who long for
change in the region. "I talk
about everyday living," says
Tuku. "Change is not drastic, it
does not happen overnight."
Mtukudzi remains undaunted
by subjects long considered
taboo in African cultures, such
as the AIDS pandemic, which
has claimed relatives and
band members close to the
artist. "It cannot go on
ignored," he says. "You can't
build up a nation with the
AIDS virus." He also
encourages dialogue between
the highly divided population
of Zimbabwe -- those who
support the government and
those who do not. "If we are to
move forward, we have to
respect the other, and the
other's feelings," says Tuku,
who is regarded by
Zimbabweans as an elder
statesman. Vhunze Moto
remains at the top of the
Zimbabwean music charts
despite the political turmoil
that continues to haunt the
country, and it is a positive
message that Tuku hopes to
bring to U.S. audiences. "I
think that there is a lot of
propaganda that has gone out
there to America," he says,
noting that visions of war and
AIDS are often the only
images of Africa presented to
Westerners. "I wish more acts
from Zimbabwe were able to
go there and tell the real story
of our people," says Tuku,
ending the conversation with a
trademark proverb and an
invitation to his upcoming
performance: "Seeing is
believing."
Unlocking the layers of Mtukudzi’s music
Chicago Tribune
May 17, 2002
by Aaron Cohen
Zimbabwean singer Oliver “Tuku”
Mtukudzi has an alluring voice, and
plays mellifluous guitar lines that
enhance his dulcet tone. But while
Mtukudzi’s music is frequently
upbeat, his messages are far from
ethereal. The lyrics directly confront
such concerns as the AIDS
epidemic, and he also uses parables
that he leaves open to interpretation.
An example of Mtukudzi’s
allegorical approach is the song
“Moto Moto” on his recent disc,
“Vhunze Moto.” Mtukudzi’s verses
say (when translated from Shona
into English), “Even embers are
fire/Why wait until it’s a huge
flame/To accept that it’s fire.” For
many of Mtukudzi’s African
listeners, this song is a disguised
commentary about the political
situation in Zimbabwe, especially
the potential reaction to President
Robert Mugabe’s brutal regime.
“Well, for me, a definition of a good
song is a song that anybody can
use,” Mtukudzi says during a stop on
his current American tour.” ‘Moto
Moto’ means an ember is also a fire
and if you touch an ember it will
burn you just like a fire. So please
don’t take an ember for granted, it
will burn you and in my culture, you
teach by example.”
Sometimes Zimbabwean authorities
have questioned Mtukudzi’s
intentions.
“I don’t point the finger at anybody,
but the guilty are always afraid.
When a person comes and asks,
‘What are you trying to say here?’ I
say, ‘What do you think?’ And he
tells me whatever he feels, and I say,
‘OK, if that’s what you think, that’s
the meaning, then.’”
This quiet wisdom did not come
easily. Mtukudzi’s autobiographical
first recording in 1976 described
how he had to leave school and try
to find a job despite widespread
unemployment.
Mtukudzi joined the band Wagon
Wheels also featured Thomas
Mapfumo, who demonstrated the
importance of creating new songs in
the Shona language, rather than just
performing Otis Redding covers in
English. That ensemble, which
became Black Spirits, also
transferred the notes of the
indigenous mbira (thumb piano) to
the guitar. After Zimbabwe’s
independence in 1980, Mtukudzi and
the Black Spirits spent several years
performing marathon shows that
frequently ran for twelve hours.
Gradually, Mtukudzi is building a
larger following in the United States.
One of his advocates is singer
Bonnie Raitt, who covers his “Hear
me Lord” on her latest disc, “Silver
Lining.” At the same time, Mtukudzi
is apprehensive about how
international influences could affect
his own country. He’s currently
writing a song exhorting
Zimbabweans not to disparage their
culture.
“I think it’s a problem in Zimbabwe
because youngsters are now exposed
to following other cultures through
electronic media and they get
attracted to that. I’m trying to say to
them that there’s no culture that’s
inferior to the others and you’d be
surprised that there are youths of
other countries who would like to be
like you.”

“… Interloping guitars and exquisite juxtaposition of Tuku’s rich

baritone with sweet response vocals… Given a South African
undercurrent by the subtle keyboards, this is typical, and
typically wonderful.” - The Beat

Ritmo Artists
Phone: 512-447-5661 / Fax: 512-447-5886 E-mail: info@ritmoartists.com Web: www.ritmoartists.com

BY JEFF CHU | HARARE
Join the heaving hundreds singing
along with Thomas Mapfumo and
you will see, hear, feel how music can
be a liberating force. The whoops and
cheers for the man they call the Lion of
Zimbabwe have broken the quiet of a
balmy January night in Mutare, a nor-
mally sleepy spread of jacaranda-
shaded streets tucked amid the granite
outcrops of the country's lush Eastern
Highlands. In Queen's Hall, the revel-
ers dance across a floor sticky with
spilled lager, lost in the thump of the
drums, the brassy blare of the horns
and the hypnotic spell of the lyrics.
Listen. What you hear isn't just Map-
fumo's rasp through an amplifier. Map-
fumo is the amplifier. "He is the voice
of the people," says Ephraim, a busi-
nessman.
Despite the police, who watch, arms
folded, the onlookers sing — no, shout
— things they wouldn't dare say. The
biggest singalong moment comes in
Marima Nzara, a lament about a man
with a big mouth who chases all the
workers away. "You have lost the
plot," everyone sings. "You have
plowed hunger." Mapfumo never
names the big mouth, but everyone
knows it's President Robert Mugabe,
who has led independent Zimbabwe for
all of its 23 increasingly miserable
years. "I'm just trying to reach the
people," Mapfumo says. The roars that
shake the packed hall suggest he's
succeeding.
That same week, on the opposite side
of the country, Oliver Mtukudzi —
Mapfumo's former bandmate and
the other giant of Zimbabwean mu-
sic — is in Binga, a rural area on
Zimbabwe's western edge. Binga is as
hot, parched and brown as Mutare is
cool, well-watered and green. Tuku, as
he's known to friends and fans, settles
down on a dusty wooden bench with
his guitar. All day, he has been clap-
ping his big hands, flapping his long
arms, and high-stepping around the
bare concrete floor of a thatched ron-
davel-turned-makeshift studio — any-
thing to fire up the choir of aids or-
phans with whom he is recording a
charity album. Unused to the rigor and
repetition of a recording session, espe-
cially in this infernal heat, the children
are wilting. It's time for a break — and
it's Tuku's turn to sing.
A dozen kids cluster round, jostling for
the best view of the fingers that sprint
across the strings. Then Tuku's voice,
strong and clear with a hint of gravel,
silences the choristers as it launches
into an improv medley: "What you do
in the dark can be known in a day/
What you do behind closed doors can
Ritmo Artists phone:
Singing The Walls Down: Protest music may be dead in the West, but it's
alive and well in Zimbabwe, where the oppressed and the impoverished find
hope and strength in the songs of Thomas Mapfumo and Oliver Mtukudzi
be known everywhere." "One, two,
three, four child ... no go school, no
food." And from his 1998 hit Todii, a
question, originally about aids, but now
so relevant to all of the country's crises,
whether political, economic, natural or
spiritual: "What shall we do?"
In Zimbabwe, the answer has always
been to make music. Traditionally, the
mbira (thumb piano) was used to
summon spirits for help. Music was
also Zimbabwe's oral newspaper, and
the sung editorials often spurred action.
In the '70s, when Ian Smith's whites-
only government ruled what was then
Rhodesia, says Mapfumo, "music
inspired youngsters to fight that op-
pressive regime."
Zimbabwe is independent now, he
says, "but the struggle is not yet won."
In a land where most trickles of dissent
are quickly dammed, Zimbabwe's two
musical legends sing on and sing out
like floods. They have different styles
— the brash Mapfumo is more head-on
political; Mtukudzi, the soft-spoken
storyteller, prefers parables. But their
songs are variations on a common
theme — building a great Zimbabwe.
While Mugabe jets around the world,
these two musicians rebuke and en-
courage the people back home. Protest
songs may have largely died out in the
West after the Vietnam era. But in
southern Africa, where music is more
than just a soundtrack to people's lives,
they still matter. "When I sing, I am
raising the Zimbabwean flag," says
Mtukudzi. If Mugabe, nature and cir-
cumstance have brought the nation to
its knees, then these patriots are singing
"Stand up!"
You have to wonder whether Mapfumo
and Mtukudzi are experiencing déjà vu.
Both rose to prominence in the Harare
township of Highfields in the 1970s,
during the country's final push for
freedom. "In those days, blacks could-
n't go into town after dark," recalls
Charles Tavengwa, proprietor of the
Mushandira Pamwe Hotel, the legen-
dary nightspot where both men played
early in their careers. "One of the only
places they could come was the hotel."
Mapfumo and Mtukudzi did more than
sing. "There was always a message to
the music," says Tavengwa. "They
were singing for all Zimbabwe and
rallying people together."
In 1977, Mtukudzi joined the Wagon
Wheels, a popular band that also fea-
tured Mapfumo. But both soon broke
away to find fame on their own. Map-
fumo was always the more militant.
512-447-5661 ~ fax: 512-447-5886
e-mail: info@ritmoartists.com www.ritmoartists.com
His song Hokoya (Watch Out!) got him
sent to jail for three months in 1977,
and Pamuromo Chete ("It's Just Talk-
ing," 1978), an upbeat reply to Smith's
vow that Africans would never rule,
got blacks to join the independence
battle. Mapfumo's music became so
identified with the chimurenga —
Shona for "struggle" — that the style
was itself dubbed chimurenga. Two
years later, as black Zimbabwe cele-
brated its liberation, Tuku and his
band, the Black Spirits, hit the charts
with Africa, an album filled with driv-
ing dance beats and heady optimism
about the future...
In Binga, where Tuku is working with
the orphans' choir, Zimbabwe's crises
converge in one misery-ridden corner.
City folk consider it Hicksville and still
say the locals are so backward that
they're born with two toes per foot. But
they're suffering from worse things
than outsiders' disdain. The area's 500-
plus orphans know why the choristers
wrote Iwe AIDS: "You killed my fa-
ther, you killed my mother ... I remain
all alone." Dry, cracked streambeds are
evidence of the unbroken drought.
Some villagers are eating tree bark.
More than 150,000 in the Matabeleland
North province rely on foreign food
aid...
People are busy with other worries, like
what to feed the family. You might
only notice when Mugabe's convoy —
jeeploads of soldiers and that shiny
black Mercedes — speeds by on its
way to the airport. (It's illegal now to
make rude gestures as it goes by; ap-
parently too many people were doing
so and it got on the presidential
nerves.)
Mostly, though, he's cloistered behind
the high walls of his Harare compound.
From there, Mugabe — once a hero, a
man of the people — fights. The media
may make it seem as if the battle today
were racial, as if the President were
lashing out primarily at the rich, land-
owning whites left over from the bad
old days. It's not. While the atmosphere
in Zimbabwe is akin to what you might
have found in apartheid-era South
Africa — another place where music,
from impoverished townships like
Soweto and Alexandra, spurred the
people on to action — the real fight
here "is really black vs. black," says a
Zimbabwean M.P. "It's black people
against a black leader." "The old man
makes his own people panic," says Job,
a taxi driver... "The day will come
when we say 'Enough is enough.'"
We thought we were liberated, but we
were not," Mapfumo says, two days
after the Mutare show, over a stew-
and-rice dinner in the living room of
his spacious Harare home. (Even stars
can't always get maize for sadza, the
staple porridge.) Mapfumo, 57, whose
waist-length dreadlocks seem designed
to defy his receding hairline, realized in
the late 1980s that he might have to go
back to battle. "Corruption was ram-
pant," he says. "Mugabe has taken the
wrong direction." His reply: Varombo
Kuvarombo (1988), released abroad in
1989 as Corruption. He hasn't let up,
writing songs like Zvatakabva Ku-
hondo (As we finish the battle, 1994)
and Ndiyani Waparadza Musha (Who
has destroyed our home?, 1998).
State-run ZBC radio — the main
source of news and entertainment —
often bans Mapfumo's songs. During
the chimurenga, ZANU-PF ran a Mo-
zambique-based short-wave station that
beamed into the country, a tactic that
exiled Zimbabweans are using again.
Now the regime is fighting back, re-
cruiting popular singers to make propa-
ganda albums. But the artists who sign
on "are hated [for] glorifying a corrupt,
brutal system," says a Harare music
critic. Thompson Tsodzo, permanent
secretary at the Ministry of Education,
Sport and Culture, admits the strategies
are futile. "The government can't con-
trol music," he says. Artists like Map-
fumo will be heard — on tapes copied
until they're frayed, on short-wave
radio, in bars and beerhalls. "Ministers
had better listen," says
Tsodzo.(continued)
(continued)
"Musicians are voicing what the people
are saying."
Mapfumo's latest album, Toi Toi, was
released three weeks ago in Zimbabwe.
The sounds are familiar — melodic
mbira, twangy guitars, Big Band brass.
The name comes from a type of protest
music, but Mapfumo's manager,
Cuthbert Chiromo, says Toi Toi is
"more reflective, less political." Not
apolitical — this is Mapfumo, after all.
The biggest buzz among the fans is
about the track Timothy. The song
censures a fool who endangers chil-
dren. The President is often called
T.I.M. — "That Idiot Mugabe." Coin-
cidence? Ask the music man himself,
and he beams mischievously, saying
only, "Great song!"
Detractors say it's easy for Mapfumo to
criticize since he and his family spend
most of their time in the U.S. They
moved in 2000 "for the children," he
says, echoing virtually every Zimbab-
wean parent who has emigrated. He
comes back every year to face the
music and make more, and he says: "I
would die fighting for my freedom and
my country." Some of his critics ask if
he's also willing to live — and suffer
— with his countrymen.
You can quibble about where Map-
fumo should live, but the fight in Zim-
babwe is about one people, not one
man. "The people can change the situa-
tion," he says. "They must choose their
destiny." It's not just a matter of taking
up arms against Mugabe. Today, "the
nation is destroyed," says Mapfumo.
Even after the President is gone, it's
going to take time — and a lot of hard
work — to build it up again. That's
why the men and their music are im-
portant, says opposition M.P. Tafadzwa
Musekiwa: Mapfumo "sings about
what we need to do now so we can
achieve all that Tuku says."
Maybe what Mapfumo suggests would
happen sooner if Zimbabweans took
what Tuku says to heart. "Solving
Zimbabwe's problems begins with us,"
says Mtukudzi, 50. "We have to help
ourselves first." For him, step one is to
look inward. What are Zimbabweans
living and dying for? What really mat-
ters? Tuku's reputation has been built
on asking and answering such ques-
tions, through parable and metaphor.
Outsiders who don't have the social or
political context — or fluency in Shona
or Ndebele — might not understand the
references in his songs. The words may
even seem preachy. To Zimbabweans,
though, it's the truth.
Mtukudzi refuses to decrypt his lyrics.
"I'm happy for people to get meaning
from my songs," he says. It helps that
there's usually consensus about what
he's singing. Take the hugely popular
Wasakara, from his 2000 album
Bvuma (Tolerance). To the beat of
conga drums and the gentle rattle of
hosho shakers, Tuku presses an aged
man to admit there are things he can no
longer do: "You are spent/ It is time to
accept you are old." Most Zimbabwe-
ans heard an allusion to the President,
then 76. A crew member at a show
thought so too. He cast the spotlight on
Mugabe's portrait during Wasakara and
earned a trip to jail.
After the release last year of Vhunze
Moto (Burning Ember), which shows
Zimbabwe in flames on its cover, Mtu-
kudzi was questioned by the feared
Central Intelligence Organisation, the
secret police. Even they couldn't get
him to explain his lyrics. He said, "You
speak Shona, don't you?" Mtukudzi
feels his songs don't need interpreta-
tion. "Everybody knows right and
wrong," he says. "Deep down, they
know."
The Highfields-born Mtukudzi's own
morality and musicality were shaped
by his Christian upbringing. Over 25
Ritmo Artists ~ phone:
e-mail: info@ritmoartists.com ~ www.ritmoartists.com
years and more than 40 albums, he has
developed his own style, a fusion of his
gospel roots and more traditionally
Shona sounds and rhythms, called Tuku
Music. Asked if it still qualifies as
gospel, he shoots back: "What does
gospel mean?" Good news. "Then it is
gospel," he says. Strange, Isn't It?,
from the 1988 album of the same
name, seems his clearest statement of
intent. On this song, he calls a musician
chipangamazano, a giver of advice. "I
want people to think about the right
thing," he says,
"whether they
sit in the seat of
power or not."
"Tuku has this
dream that if he
plugs them
enough, he will
be able to help
restore
fundamental
values," says
Debbie
Metcalfe, his
manager. "He
feels there's no
moral fiber left."
He's not the
only one who
thinks that.
Many Zim-
babweans
believe the
country's prob-
lems will not be
solved until
society, top to
bottom, reforms.
But where do
values and
moral fiber
come from? For
Zimbabweans,
there's one refrain — sometimes
phrased differently, but always the
same: "We need God."
One of Mtukudzi's best-known songs
outside Zimbabwe is Hear Me, Lord
(1994), a high-speed ride to heaven on
a guitar riff. The rousing plea for di-
vine intervention was covered by
American singer Bonnie Raitt. Perhaps
better than any other song in his cata-
log, its lyrics sum up how Zimbabwe-
ans, many devoutly Christian like
Tuku, feel today: "Help me Lord, I'm
feeling low."
... The future is definitely on Tuku's
mind. "I hate songs that only work for
a particular period," Mtukudzi says. "A
song has to work yesterday, today and
tomorrow." Which is why his recent
albums have so many songs about aids.
More than 1.8 million Zimbabweans —
a quarter of all adults — are HIV posi-
tive. It's a personal issue; his circle of
family and friends, like almost all in
Zimbabwe, has been hit hard. And the
problem is not going away. That's why
512-447-5661 ~ fax: 512-447-5886
he said yes when the NGO Ntengwe
for Community Development asked
him to work with the Binga orphans on
their recording, which will raise funds
for a trust benefiting them and their
destitute communities. And that's why
he has written so much about aids,
including Todii, a Tuku classic with its
lilting guitar lines and searching call-
and-response, and the mournful Ma-
basa, which asks, "Who will feed
whom since the breadwinners are all
dying?"
Mtukudzi is not dismissing Zim-
babwe's shorter-term struggles. For
instance, last fall, he helped start the
Music for Food Collective, whose
concerts help raise funds to address a
very immediate need — hunger. "But
these troubles will come to an end. It's
a phase," he says. His focus is based on
his belief that whatever phase Zim-
babwe is in, it will always need core
values — self-discipline, respect for
others, cultural pride, faith. The fans
seem to agree. "Eh, Tuku!" says
Shamiso, a maid. "He knows our suf-
fering." "Tuku sings our reality," says
Ebenezer, a waiter. "He sings what has
happened and what will."
Critics insist the reality might be dif-
ferent if Mtukudzi tackled politics.
"He's like everyone else — afraid,"
says one. He could exploit his popular-
ity to make a statement. "But at what
price?" asks John Matinde, a DJ at SW
Radio Africa. "He could come out with
a killer of an album — and spend the
rest of his life in jail." Tuku knows
there's power in what he does and the
way he does it. "A musician is not a
politician. He is there to entertain," he
says. "But a musician is also there to
help. He is a leader trying to tell, to
teach." Jail would mean class is over.
What should Zimbabwe do, Tuku?
What does the land need? "We need
rain!" he declares, with a grin that says
"You're not going to get me to talk
about politics!" "We need to believe in
who we are, to regain respect for one
another." Later, he offers a telling
comment on the mood of the people:
"When water is boiling, it's bound to
spill over."
In this freedom fight, as in a similar
one some two decades ago, music is
applying pressure. "To us, music is
life," says Black Spirits bassist Never
Mpofu. Songs like Mapfumo's an-
themic Huni ("Do not play with the
people, because the people can revolt")
and Mtukudzi's thoughtful Kucheneka
("Emulate those who are brave, those
who went before you") remind the
powerful and the powerless of the
possibility of change. "The music is so
important to the people," says Map-
fumo. "Let's just keep our fingers
crossed that it will work."
Some people may wonder why it hasn't
already, but then the liberation war
took years. "We are a patient people,"
says Jacob, a clerk from Mutare.
"Sometimes too patient." "People are
getting the messages through this mu-
sic," says Chipo, a Bulawayo student.
"We know they are singing from the
heart. In time, it will help us stand up."
On Mtukudzi's last morning in Binga,
the choir seems to be stronger, more
confident. They zip through a couple of
songs, and Tuku raises his arms to
heaven, in triumph — or is it thanks-
giving? But they soon tire. Their voices
crack. Their legs ache. Their new out-
fits — rich gold paired with a choco-
late-brown batik — make them itch.
Partway into Bonga Hlabelela, a hope-
ful song written by the children that
says, "Have faith in the Lord! Sing!
Sing!", Tuku waves the choir to a stop.
He consults the choirmasters about a
note change, then turns back to the
group. They start. And above their
rapidly building four-part harmony,
you hear Tuku, spurring them on.
"Open your mouths! Louder! I want
you to break these walls down!" It's a
message all Zimbabwe needs to hear.