Genge’s got the gangsta edge, but it doesn’t question the system
Published in The East African, Sunday, January 3, 2010
When I first arrived in Kenya, in late 2008 from South Africa, I didn’t know my “bongo” from my “mambo.” I thought, “They are both styles of music”... Sindio? But I learned the difference quickly, through my love of music and radio. So there I was, endlessly fine-tuning the wireless to the myriad stations that congest Nairobi’s airwaves.
I started listening to Classic FM and Kiss FM, morning and evening, and Capital late at night. I got good politics from Caroline Mutoko and a laugh or two from Larry Asego both of Kiss FM. I heard some fantastic late night mixes on Capital and I thought that Nairobi’s dedicated reggae station, Metro FM was way cool too.
The first “bongo flava” track I ever heard was Ali Kiba’s “Macmugo.” I loved the simple beauty of the song, and the poetic sound of the Tanzanian Kiswahili. The fact that I could discern “South Africa” within the lyrics increased my love for the song too … I downloaded the ringtone.
Since then, I have picked up Kiswahili, kidogo, and have enjoyed Bongo flava coming at me from everywhere: In restaurants, bars and clubs, blaring from matatus and kicking from kiosks. It is light, joyous music. It is sweet, and speaks of love and romance; yearnings of the heart. It is both witness and testimony to the fabled “good heart” of the East African people.
Until now, East Africa has enjoyed the sole franchise on Bongo. The songs have been done exclusively in Kiswahili and the productions have been strictly East African. But there are some new kids on the Bongo block...
Nigerian musicians are suddenly doing Bongo. And they’re doing it better than the Tanzanians. Their sound is much cooler than Tanzanian and Kenyan Bongo. They have raised the bar. Their videos have moved away from the ghetto and into the bling — quite refreshing after the endless singing scenes set in Dar es Salaam. This is something East Africa needs to watch out for in both senses, and with the Nigerians doing Bongo in English, they are inviting all of Anglophone West Africa to “buy Bongo.” That is one large market.
So, East African musicians probably need to listen to Bongo flava from Nigeria if they want to see bigger sales in future (and dealing with piracy will probably help a bit too).
But Bongo tunes from Tanzania are in a class of their own. There’s something soft in Tanzanian Kiswahili that the Kenyan version and Kenyan English fail to match. But then, there is something strong in Nairobi Sheng (slang) that the Tanzanian tongue and English fail to match as well...
If Bongo speaks to the heart, Kenya’s Genge music speaks the mind of a disenchanted youth ...
The sound of Genge, sung in Nairobi Sheng, is superbly suited to this hard, unforgiving city. Bongo is soft. Genge is hard. Very hard. And Genge is the genre with which Nairobi may yet make its mark on African music. Genge is Nairobi, just like gangsta came from East Central LA. These are not coincidences. They are the realities from which “ghetto” creativity stems.
So I have recently taken to a diet of Ghetto Radio and late-night Capital. And I have heard some startling music, made right here in Nairobi. I understand Kiswahili enough now to discern the lyrics, but it’s the sheer power of the Genge rhyming slang — whether you understand it or not — that is so potent.
Genge is clever. It is witty. It is irreverent. One song rhymes the virtues of Nairobi’s take-away chickens (read “chicks”). Another, the hazards of Nairobi streets. The genre is edgy, and is looking hard at local life. I mean, Jua Cali is HOT. The first time I heard him, I stopped in my tracks. All I could say was:
“Mambo mbaaaaaaaaaya!” (Slang for ‘This is cool’).
But so far, even with Genge’s realism, not much of it seriously questions the social order. So here’s a trend I would like to see: Genge lyrics that address real issues facing Kenya. There will be some important listening next year if Genge stops skirting and deals overtly with corruption, poverty, unemployment and a despised government. Surely, this is some of what “urban” genres should be about. And even if radio avoids any conflagration, we know that Nairobi’s music pirates will disseminate the message, haraka sana!
Coming from a background of “resistance music” in South Africa, I know what a powerful force for change music can be. Nothing can resist a force whose time has come. And Kenya’s time has come. One way of making the necessary changes known can be through Genge.
