Remembering the rhumba great Musa Juma 9 years later

There is a reason music lovers should mark the 15th day of March on their calendars. When this day dawns, nine years will have elapsed since rhumba maestro Musa Juma died. And it will be an opportune moment for us to rekindle our memories of a man who raised the bar in music to a level few on the local music scene will ever surpass.

Many remember Juma as a man who approached music with an almost nonpareil zeal and seriousness. Yes, MJ, as his fans fondly referred to him, was a serious musician. Literally.

UNWRITTEN RULES

On stage, he oftentimes adorned his face with tainted designer glasses and consistently neither laughed nor smiled. He played by another unwritten rule — he never accepted drinks or handouts from his fans.

Thanks to his demeanour, he cut the perfect image of one who was determined to strictly observe the ethical code of his trade.

In music, one has to be exceptionally gifted to be able to sing and strum the guitar simultaneously. Juma secured himself a space within the ranks of this rare breed. He could seamlessly tune his well-rounded and unique voice to his solo guitar. Put another way, he was a hands-on leader of his Orchestra Limpopo International band.

Juma rose above benga purism and betrothed lakeside benga to Congolese rhumba. In fact, it’s courtesy of this marriage of genres that scholars classify Juma’s music as rubenga, and not rhumba.

Doesn’t he reveal his consciousness of African socio-economic and political struggles in his “Sudan (Mpya)” ballad? Moreover, you should perhaps listen to him give a long list of local and international political leaders whom he creatively calls Vigogo wa Afrika in the climax of his song “Raila”.

CAPTIVATING RENDITIONS

A few other things distinguished Juma from your ordinary musician. To begin with, he had a way with his lines. Besides, it was not in vain that Juma opted to package his captivating renditions in a blend of Dholuo, English and Kiswahili. In fact, his compositions such as “Starehe”, “Ufisadi” and “Utanikumbuka” are purely rendered in Kiswahili.

Pundits say Juma was the sum total of Dr Collela Mazee, Okatch Biggy and Ochieng’ Kabaselleh. They argue that his compositions are characterised by Collela’s adroit guitar work, Okatch Biggy’s sonorous, haunting and quivered voice and Kabaselleh’s creativity.

Juma sang songs about personalities, love, fate and human tragedies. He particularly had a special place in his heart for academics. One may speculate that it was from this notable soft spot for men of high learning that the street grapevine about him being a university graduate stemmed. In “Omwaga JB”, one of the numbers under his name, he confesses that music (only) sings (sic) the learnt. Similarly, “Odundo” and “Oyoo Daktari” praise men of high learning.

Juma taught timeless lessons through his music. In more than one way, one can illustrate that he lived ahead of his time. Long before ‘sponsorship’ turned into the phenomenon it is today, he composed “Maselina” and employed humour to dissuade men from the tendency of flaunting their wealth when wooing women. In this song, he accuses such men of corruption.

Born in a polygamous family of 18 siblings, Juma travelled a long journey to fame and honour. He shares his reflections on his humble beginnings in “Ratego Baba”, a song in which he expresses his gratitude to his father for raising them, the attendant difficulties notwithstanding. Given his humble beginnings, his music became a vehicle for his pro-hard work, love and unity advocacy.

POSITIVE INCLINATION

Equally notable is his positive inclination towards true friendship. He loved his friends and sang memorable songs in their praise. The friendship is better than riches mantra that he preaches through his music borders on a personal philosophy.

He offers priceless street wisdom to contemporary musicians. In “Christina”, he proudly declares that music is as good a source of employment as any other career.

In a clear reference to how stiff competition has become in the music industry, he says that the waters are murky and therefore music needs education and intellect. Contemporary artistes should take this as a challenge to invest in their education and professional band management.

Since we’ll soon be a year shy of a decade since Juma’s exit, I’ll pose a question. Is it a complete waste of resources to construct a mausoleum and monument in his honour? He thrilled us, he educated us and he entertained us while he was here. This is the reason we should not lose his memories.