Who is Ghana's Manno Charlemagne?

I miss Haiti very much. I miss everything about my country; the people, the food, the language, and most importantly the music. I miss the music even more because music in Haiti is political. It is conscious and it can move mountains.

Haitians are reminded about the power of music every day, but Kanaval time is most poignant. Kanaval de Fle was celebrated this past weekend. Although not without some controversy, but strictly focusing on the music, it is was a huge success. And thanks to Radio Kiskeya, I had the opportunity to hear the songs that made that competitive schedule. Because Haitians take music very seriously, the best musicians amongst them are really some of the best artists of the world. The songs tackle poverty, corruption, love of humanity, love of Haiti, illnesses, water shortages, electrical problems and so much more.

Listening to the songs with my children instilled a slight fear in me. I am raising children in a country where they are not exposed to conscious thinking on a daily basis. I cannot turn on the radio in Ghana and have the children listen to a artist who wrote and arranged music that tackles societal problems. They don’t know Ghana’s version of Manno Charlemagne or Koudjaye, Boukan Guinen or Boukman Eksperyans. Even if argument can be made that the younger generation has dropped the artistic baton, where are the Fela’s in Ghana’s musical history? Where are the Emline Michelles?

For these reasons and more, I make sure my children listen to Haitian music on a daily basis. They also listen to Haitian radio on a daily basis. I’m focusing on Manno Charlemagne today because one song in particular could have been written in Ghana, by Ghanaians, even today. Here is a translational synopsis.

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Tet Kole (Unity)

Human’s first thought is how to feed itself

The year things don’t go well, he is ambitious to make (societal) changes

It’s nothing serious. He’s morals are falling.  If by chance he succeeds, the people don’t exist. It’s Haitianess; other people’s misery don’t count.

Misery.

All the candidates are power driven. They push the people to shout

The people as innocents, how else would they change things,

Then they realize that they were asleep and now awake he sees it did not work. He does not want to spill blood, so the bad intentioned are enjoying.

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Chorus:

Things will work the day the people unite.

The people are trembling (looking like TB patients)

Let’s put the wealthy in medical facilities.

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The people are very hopeful. They know what needs to be done for their peace to return. Pull a few of us out of poverty, our tongues are too heavy for us….Misery.

I heard there’s a loan to be given to develop the South. It was talked about every day.

One or two years later, all belts are tied.

Yes, you see movement of cement, trucks and a young guy drives by in an expensive car well composed.  He’s from the city and in charge of the project.

One or two years later, the South is further underdeveloped. The project guy did not care, because his main concern was to steal. Cars for him to use. He is just eating. It’s true.

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Who is speaking these truths in Ghana? Who are the voices of the people? Where are the people? The ones whose every word and song are listened to as hymns? The ones the workers spend lunch time discussing and dissecting their every word? Who are the voices of our thoughts? The ones who know and understand the situation and working hard to change it? At least we will always have Haiti. Long live Ayiti Toma!

A Great Life

How does one define a great life? I think one measure of greatness has to be with having taught others.  Did you come to this world to teach? What was the lesson? Did you leave the world a better place? Madiba’s life was a great life. His was a spirit, a soul sent to teach us so many lessons; lessons that took 94 years of his presence to teach us.

This is not homage to a dead man. The fact is Madiba will never die. Here are the 10 lessons, and counting, that I learned from him.

1.     The first of many lessons was patience. We need patience in the face of our adversaries. The simple response is to meet their evil with violence. But what would the lesson be in that? That the one with the most imagination for evil wins? No. Madiba taught us something deeper and more meaningful awaits the world when we meet evil doers (as recalcitrant children) with patience in our eyes.

2.    Another great lesson from Madiba is that of sacrifice. You must be willing to sacrifice your personal safety and peace for the greater good. The high road is not an easy one. It’s not a comfortable one. It’s one that leads you to the mouth of the apartheid/racist/evil beasts. You become the mark of their antithesis. You are not hidden or blended in the many, your face is used for dart practice. Instead of running into a cave to silently await their epitome, you give your life to that cause. By that sacrifice, all others are saved and find a voice and strength to fight on for justice.

3.    There is a difference between being in the right and justice. While justice permitted the imprisonment of the architects and perpetrators of evil, the right option would be to end feud by choosing to teach by example. Justice would have permitted a global feud between whites and non whites. Doing the right thing permitted even some whites to see how evil their regimes have been.

4.    Being right is not always popular. Everyone expected Madiba to wage an outright war on whites in SA (and those around the world who supported the apartheid regime) for his false imprisonment, and for having kept his people in subjugation. However, Madiba taught us that more love can grow in our hearts from pain. That having been victims of evil does not mean we cannot grow even higher in our love and compassion. In fact, we become immune to it.

5.    We don’t live in a just world. The most unjust are leading us into evil. Instead of separating ourselves from them, we must teach them. The concept of Umbuntu does not permit us to live in isolation atop a hill waiting for our sole deliverance. We must join the dirty, the ugly and evil, to permit us all to live in a just and good world.

6.    Don’t let pain overwhelm our being. It’s easy to give in to the pain and suffering. The best we can do for ourselves, and the greater good, is to dig further into forgiveness and peace of mind.

7.    Find good in the pain. I cannot imagine what his life was like not having been there to see his children grow up. All the tears he did not dry. All the stories he did not get to tell. But instead, he understood his life as a gift to the world, not just his family. Instead of focusing on what his children were missing, he thought of all the children, from Egypt to Zimbabwe, who were denied basic human rights.

8.    People can change, at least, pretend to. Madiba was considered one of the world’s most infamous terrorist. The US only removed him from their list in 2008. Now, he is comparable to God like men who formed world religions.

9.    You don’t need to be a god to fight for justice. You just need a good sense of right and wrong.

10.  In the words of Bob Marley, “many people will fight you down, when you see the light. But let me tell you if you are not wrong, then everything is all right.” Madiba!

Madiba lives on!

Who can possibly write an obituary for Madiba? What would it say? He saved the world. Yes, Madiba saved the world.

On Yari Yari

I attended the Yari Yari Ntoaso conference which was held from May 16-19, 2013. It was held in Accra at the College for Physicians and Doctors, which is a lovely facility by the way, but customer service was lacking. Howver, the organizers made up for it by having a great team of student volunteers who really held the conference together.

The conference theme was on “Continuing the Dialogue” on engaging the past, the present and the future. It was the best conference I ever attended. All the big names in African/Global literature were there. This conference opened my eyes in two ways.

The first way has propelled me to write more, and give attention to my writing. I was mostly using this blog as my first draft. Now I know this blog can be much more. Not just me writing when I have time, but making time to provide information and writing well. This point was particularly important because attendees included great writers such as Ama Ata Ado, Veronique Tadjo, Evelyne Trouillot, Zetta Elliot, Amma Darko, Malme Kabu and other political activist such as Angela Davis. Needleless to say, it was in a sea of perfection. This group was why museums were created…to show and spotlight greatness in society. This conference was on ongoing curatorial dialogue on perfection.

The conference was perfect in two ways. The first way was that the writers were world’s best. They took their craft seriously and they mastered it.  But that was not the most important to me. The most important point of this dialogue on perfection was that it took place in Accra; a place where perfection tends to be a foreign word. Where few acknowledge it and where fewer aim for it. I hope this conference left its mark on Ghana’s landscape and start the process of change. How could one not be influenced by Amma Darko, whose unfinished work almost caused me to commit a felony? I need that book.

The second reason why I enjoyed this conference was on the social level. Nina Chachu was kind enough to email me the link for the conference, which I had not heard about. I went through the program and noticed three Haitian names. I had not heard of the individuals before, nor was I familiar with their art. But I took the liberality to email them simply because I was Haitian, and so were they. But I didn’t email to say just hello. I emailed to impose my Haitianess on them. I asked if they could do favors for me, a Haitian, they didn’t know or had heard of. They each answered categorically yes. Why wouldn’t day do this favor? It was understood. It was not a problem. If anything, this is what we do. We travel to foreign countries and bring things back for one another. We take things to Haiti for friends and those we are hoping to meet. It’s part of our socialization…cooking more than enough just in case a non expectant drops by.

Many cultures will claim to have this, in their traditions, but few live up to this the way Haitians do. It’s not “the way of the past” but the way that we define who we are, still today.

Mamle Kabu spoke on identity and how identity is negotiated. She discussed that identity is not only how you define what you want others to think you are but it’s also their willingness to take your word for it by allowing you in or keeping you out. One of the Haitian presenters I emailed was the talented and fabulous Gabrielle Civil. She responded to my email but also included that she was half Haitian. Automatically my expectations changed. My first instinct was “Oh oh.” Would she “real” Haitian? Would we just flow? Would I be able to freely/wholly be Haitian with someone who was half?

Why did I automatically question her half-ness as problematic to my “wholeness?”  I struggled with these questions in college when I came into contact with Haitians with different backgrounds than me. It turns out that Gabrielle was as fantastic as I had envisioned, and even more so. But what if my curatorial creation of Haitianess  was different from hers? Would I have dismissed her as “not enough”?  Would I have been “humane” enough to see that “one” identity did not override others?

I realized that the anxiety of difference is precisely because it is not known and familiar. I “think” I know how a Haitian would act, respond and behave. I don’t know that of another group. And because my self-seeking needs are easily met with the known, I automatically dismiss the unknown. And similar to Mamle Kabu’s story, identity has more to do with those watching waiting to include or exclude. Because who you really are, will come out, flawlessly as Gabrielle’s performance proved.

Where is the talent?

Writer, Mamle Kabu, wrote a short story entitled, “The end of talent.” This story, among other themes, reveals the competitive nature of Kente creative production. Instead of recreating the same patterns over and over again, Kente weavers are motivated to always outdo themselves. They aim to produce a better product each time and to outshine their competitors. By so doing, they attract the attention of the major patron, the king, and gain the reputation of being the best. Too bad we can only say this of Kente weavers.

No one talks about being the best any more. What you hear is the rising rate of mediocrity. Far from aiming to become the best, the current population seeks to “just get by.”  In fact, one can make the argument that competition, the idea of outdoing others and being the best is not part of the general mantra.  What you find is people trying to do less than is expected of them. The doctors not showing up for work, the nurses sleeping on the job, the teachers sending students to work farms or to the market on their behalf or the bank teller unmotivated to be of any service and of course customer service as rare as Japanese speakers. In fact, what you hear often is that “why should I do my best, this is not my father’s.” People are only invested in doing a good job if they have something to inherit from it. And even then, they don’t; let’s take a look at all the inherited family houses and gaze at their conditions.

It’s also surprising to me the rising rate of mediocrity within the music industry. For a country that suffers constant electricity problems, water shortages, bad roads, poor schools, gender imbalances, sanitation problems and so much more, I cannot name one song that has tackled any of those topics. The only recent musician who had me pay attention was King Ayisoba with his “ I want to see you my father” where he laments on his father’s philandering and irresponsible ways. We can all relate. Why only him? Where are the other voices on the vices of our society? Is this not why Fela and Bob Marley remain legends? From Ayiti to Zimbabwe, everyone can relate to their music because they speak the universal truths of some of our societal tribulations.

So where are the musicians in Ghana? What are they expressing? If my favorite Ghanaians are telling the truth, and I suspect they are, the real artists are part of an underground movement. Their music is not heard on the radio airwaves because they cannot afford to bribe the radio presenters to play their songs. The fact is the only music you hear on radio stations in Ghana are by those who can afford the bribe to get their music played. In theory, I can do a demo of my 7 year old’s guitar lessons and pay to have all stations in Ghana play it. He would become popular because he is heard over and over again. He would become the “best” based on the lack of competition. And if no one else is as heard, he becomes the best by default. This is how people get the title of musicians and artist in Ghana and ultimately win “awards.”

Musicians in Ghana, just like the doctors, teachers, nurses, and other unprofessionals realize that there is no need for competition. They don’t need to perform their best because no one is demanding it of them. No one is holding them to any standard. They are “free” to disrupt our ears with drivel because their Democratic rights, just like the journalist, demand that they just exist. Luckily the Kente weavers have not given up. They continue to outdo and outshine.